tf         I 


RESOLVED    TO     BE    RICH 


GALIF.  LIBRARY.  LOS  ANGELES 


Resolved  to  be  Rich 


A    NOVEL 


BY 

E.     H.     COOPER 

AUTHOR  OF 

'  The  Marchioness  Against  the  County"  "Children,  Race-horses, 
and  Ghosts,"  etc. 


HERBERT  S.  STONE  AND  COMPANY 

CHICAGO  AND  NEW  YORK 

MDCCCXCIX 


COPYRIGHT     1899,     BY 
HERBERT  S.  STONE  *  CO 


Stack 

Annex 


Resolved  to  be  Rich 


CHAPTER    I 

"On  the  Corniche  Road,  near  to  the  little 
village  of  Eze,  where  the  plash  of  Mediter- 
ranean waves  is  the  only  sound  heard,  one  may 
see  an  old  tombstone  inscribed  with  the  strange 
words:  'HERE  LIES  THE  SOUL  OF  COUNT  Louis 
ESTERFELD.  '  Wanderers  along  this  road  had 
passed  by  the  stone  year  after  year  repeating 
the  words:  'Here  lies  the  soul  of  Count  Louis 
Esterfeld"  with  a  light  laugh,  and  muttering 
to  themselves  'a  madman!'  till  one  day  there 
came  by  a  man  with  thoughts  in  his  mind  of 
which  these  words  were  a  curious  echo.  He 
paused  in  front  of  the  stone  considering,  and  at 
last  began  to  dig.  Working  for  some  time 
with  his  hands  he  came  at  last  upon  a  metal 
box,  and  opening  it  found  it  full  of  gold  and 
jewels.  Among  them  was  a  paper  containing 
these  words:  'You  are  my  heir:  to  you  I 
bequeath  this  wealth,  to  you  who  have  under- 


2128915 


2  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

stood.  In  this  box  is  my  soul — the  money 
without  which  man  is  but  a  machine  and  his 
life  but  a  long  procession  of  weary  empty 
years.  .  .  . '  ' 

A  boy  who  was  reading  this  queer  legend 
dropped  the  newspaper  and  stared  round  him 
with  hungry  eyes  and  parted  lips.  He  looked 
like  a  youngster  of  eleven  or  twelve,  though 
he  was  in  fact  fourteen,  and  had  a  face  differ- 
ing in  no  respect  from  that  of  a  hundred  of 
his  contemporaries.  Freckled  cheeks,  small 
turned-up  nose,  broad  forehead  and  indeter- 
minate mouth — this  is  a  combination  of  fea- 
ture which  Nature  seems  to  turn  out  by  the 
hundred  thousand  for  the  confusion  of  parents 
who  want  to  discover  some  indication  of  a 
special  talent  in  their  sons:  the  good  dame 
giving  no  indication  of  the  iron  will,  reckless 
courage,  calculating  energy  or  grubbing  greed 
which  is  hidden  behind  it.  Perhaps  she  is 
right,  and  the  humour  and  interest  of  a  study 
of  life  would  be  perceptibly  lessened  if  we 
could  not  now  and  then  see  men  with  noble 
countenances  do  great  deeds  for  love  of  gold ; 
and  cowards  with  receding  foreheads  and  timid 
eyes  sacrifice  ease,  reputation,  life  itself,  for  a 
sudden  whimsical  notion  of  honour;  and  an 
idle  vagabond  suddenly  grow  upright  and 
industrious  while  his  once  reproachful  and 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  3 

irreproachable  neighbour  forges  a  cheque  and 
goes  to  Spain  with  the  proceeds,  and  his 
neighbour's  wife  to  help  him  spend  them. 
But  this  sketch  (or  part  of  it — never  mind 
which  part)  is  anticipating  the  career  of  Master 
Gerald  Franklin. 

The  young  gentleman  sat  in  a  deep  and 
comfortable  arm-chair  with  his  legs  crossed, 
his  feet  (or,  to  be  exact,  as  he  invariably  was 
himself,  with  one  foot)  on  a  foot-stool,  and  a 
Manchester  weekly  paper  in  his  hands.  He 
had  read  every  word  of  it,  foreign  intelligence, 
money-market  news,  local  gossip  and  leading 
articles,  not  because  he  was  interested  in  a 
quarter  of  what  he  read  but  because  it  was  his 
principle  and  practice  to  collect  every  morsel 
of  information  available  on  every  business 
subject.  For  general  literature  he  had  the 
profoundest  scorn.  Latin  and  Greek  poets  he 
not  only  loathed  as  his  contemporaries  loathed 
them  because  they  meant  work  and  pain  and 
tears,  but  above  all  despised  because  they 
were  useless.  He  worked  at  these  idiotic 
tasks,  as  he  called  them,  just  as  much  as  was 
necessary  to  avoid  the  fate  of  other  young 
gentlemen  with  strong  (though,  perhaps,  less 
debatable)  views  as  to  the  value  of  their  tasks, 
but  he  never  gained  or  aspired  to  high  marks 
for  Latin  verses  or  brilliant  construing.  The 


4  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

classical  master  thought  Franklin  a  dullard 
and  the  youth  thought  the  classical  master  a 
bore:  that  was  the  extent  of  their  concern 
about  one  another.  But  when  Gerald  found 
himself  in  a  class  where  arithmetic,  geog- 
raphy, or  other  modern  useful  knowledge  was 
being  imparted,  or  even  where  a  German  or 
French  master  was  doing  battle  with  giggling 
and  scornful  young  Britons,  there  was  another 
story  to  be  told.  Many  a  man  looked  anxious 
when  Franklin  began  to  ask  him  questions: 
most  of  them  had  to  think  before  answering 
him,  and  to  realise  sometimes  how  slight  a 
hold  they  had  on  their  subject.  The  masters 
at  Gerald's  school  were  young  men  from  high 
schools  and  training  colleges  who  had  studied 
science  not  to  know  but  to  pass  examinations, 
and  outraged  science  had  avenged  herself: 
they  did  pass  and  they  did  not  know. 

The  purely  imaginative  side  of  life  did  not 
often  present  itself  to  young  Franklin,  and 
since  it  mostly  concerned  itself  with  love,  self- 
sacrifice  and  such-like  unprofitable  subjects,  he 
did  not  go  in  search  of  it.  Books  of  adventure 
interested  him  when  a  treasure-hunt  was  the 
point  of  the  story,  but  otherwise  he  despised 
them  and  their  readers.  In  any  case  he  con- 
sidered that  to  read  them  was  a  waste  of  time, 
since,  as  he  justly  observed,  the  story  could 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  5 

have  been  told  in  a  page  if  the  writer  had  left 
out  all  the  scenery,  character-description,  lion- 
shooting,  snake-bites,  and  other  superfluous 
matter.  Never  before  to-day  had  he  come 
across  a  story  like  this  one  in  the  Manchester 
Weekly  Sun  which  combined  interest  and 
brevity  in  such  a  high  degree.  The  fact  that 
it  was  an  advertisement  of  some  one's  pills  (a 
five-years'  sufferer  from  dyspepsia,  discovering 
the  pills  later  on  in  the  article,  even  as  the 
young  man  discovered  diamonds)  affected  him 
not  at  all,  or  even  gratified  him  further  as  evi- 
dence of  a  business-like  mind.  For  one  single 
moment  the  story  forced  him  into  a  day- 
dream, filling  him  with  a  vague  desire  to  visit 
foreign  countries  and  dig  there.  Then  he 
shook  himself  together,  read  to  the  end  of  the 
advertisement,  and  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
it  would  be  better  to  make  pills.  Just  as  he 
had  arrived  at  this  sensible  decision  the  door 
of  the  room  opened  and  his  sister  came  in. 
The  child  approached  him  hesitatingly  and 
stood  looking  at  him  with  troubled  eyes. 

"Well,  old  girl?" 

"Don't  you  think,  Gerald,  that  you  could 
come  and  see  Aunt  Marian?  She  has  asked 
for  you  twice." 

"I've  got  to  go  to  school.  It's  past  eight 
already. ' ' 


6  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

Monica  Franklin  looked  at  the  arm-chair, 
foot-stool  and  newspaper,  without  any  verbal 
answer. 

' '  I  suppose  I  must  come  in  for  a  bit, ' '  said 
the  boy  vexedly,  "though  it  will  probably  make 
me  late  again.  If  she's  worse  I  mustn't  stay 
long,  I  suppose?" 

"She  is  much  worse,"  said  his  sister  gravely, 
yet  unable  to  repress  a  smile  at  the  considera- 
tion shown  in  this  remark,  and  the  speaker's 
obvious  satisfaction  at  his  own  thoughtfulness. 

The  woman  by  whose  bedside  the  children 
were  presently  standing  was  white  and  motion- 
less. As  the  boy  came  in  she  tried  to  raise  her 
hand,  but  could  not  move  it  and  lay  in  silence 
looking  at  the  young  pair  with  eyes  which 
already  knew  the  last  great  secret.  A  grey 
shadow  was  even  now  stealing  across  her  face ; 
her  breathing  seemed  almost  at  an  end, 
though  now  and  again  with  a  great  struggle 
she  would  win  one  more  deep  breath  from  the 
enemy  which  had  already  conquered  her.  The 
thought  that  her  time  for  speech  was  probably 
now  an  affair  of  minutes  made  her  set  her 
teeth  in  a  last  desperate  effort,  and  raising  her 
head  she  beckoned  the  boy  nearer  to  her.  He 
bent  unwillingly  and  nervously  over  the  bed. 

"Monica  .  .  .  you  will  take  care  of 
her?" 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  7 

The  lad  looked  helplessly  across  at  his 
sister,  not  understanding-. 

"I  am  dying,"  said  the  woman;  "don't  you 
know?  don't  you  see?"  Through  the  mists 
which  hung  round  her  Marian  Franklin  caught 
sight  of  the  sudden  blaze  of  terror  which 
started  up  in  her  young  nephew's  face.  "Dr. 
Hare  should  have  told  you.  Answer  me:  will 
you  take  care  of  Monica?" 

Gerald  spoke  no  word ;  he  hardly  heard  the 
question;  his  mind  was  trying  to  adjust  itself 
to  the  reality  of  death  as  presented  to  him  in 
this  room.  Hitherto  it  had  appeared  to  him 
only  as  a  last  refuge  of  people  who  could  not 
do  any  more  business;  it  had  not  entered  into 
his  range  of  actual  vision.  Sickness  he  knew 
(by  reputation)  and  weakness  and  pain,  be- 
cause his  aunt  had  often  been  ill,  but  the  idea 
of  death  could  not  immediately  reach  his  under- 
standing. He  stood  in  continued  silence  bring- 
ing his  intellect  to  bear  on  the  problem  as  he 
would  have  brought  it  to  bear  on  a  new  rule  of 
arithmetic  which  was  presented  to  him,  without 
sympathy,  fear,  anxiety,  or  any  other  emotion, 
but  merely  with  resolution  to  understand  it. 

1 '  You  shall  answer  me, ' '  said  the  woman  with  a 
sudden  access  of  strength ; ' '  you  shall  promise ! ' ' 

"What  do  you  want  me  to  promise?"  he 
asked  cautiously. 


8  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

"That  you  will  keep  Monica  with  you  .  . 
provide  for  her  .  .  .  she  has  nothing 
except  what  you  will  share  with  her." 

"Say  yes;  please  do  say  yes,  Gerald,"  whis- 
pered the  sobbing  child  who  was  standing  by 
his  side;  "only  just  to  please  her  now;  I  will 
not  hold  you  to  it." 

' '  But  I  will, ' '  said  the  dying  woman  in  a  low 
clear  voice  which  thrilled  through  the  room 
like  the  whisper  of  some  great  tragic  actress, 
so  that  the  two  children  turned  to  her  with 
startled  faces.  "Wherever  I  am  I  shall  know, 
and  if  you  break  your  word  .  .  . " 

There  was  a  long  silence  during  which  she 
lay  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  boy,  as  though 
she  were  reading  every  thought  which  was 
passing  through  his  mind  and  foreseeing  every 
future  thought  which  would  pass  through  it. 
A  great  wave  of  fear  suddenly  swept  over  his 
soul  as  the  eyes  with  that  dread  knowledge  in 
them  held  his  own  and  would  not  let  them  go. 
He  stammered  out  some  words;  he  did  not 
know  what.  She  did  not  understand  them  and 
spoke  again  in  an  impatient  whisper: — 

"Do  you  promise?    Yes  or  no?" 

"Yes." 

"Louder." 

"Yes." 

"I  hear.     I  will  remember. " 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  9 

There  was  another  long  silence  broken  only 
by  an  occasional  sob  from  Monica,  and  then 
Dr.  Hare  came  quietly  and  quickly  into  the 
room.  He  looked  in  startled  fear  at  the 
unconscious  figure  on  the  bed  and  then  at  the 
children  standing  in  frightened  helplessness  by 
its  side. 

"I  couldn't  get  here  a  minute  sooner,"  he 
muttered,  seeming  rather  to  be  offering 
excuses  to  himself  than  to  them,  and  began 
hastily  to  apply  remedies.  "One  of  you  had 
better  run  to  the  Vicarage  and  ask  Mr.  Lowe 
to  come;  or  stay — don't — it  is  too  late,  I  am 
afraid." 

For  even  while  he  was  speaking  Miss  Marian 
Franklin  died. 


CHAPTER    II 

In  the  little  study  of  Oakhill  Vicarage  the 
Reverend  James  Lowe  sat  in  a  desk-chair  with 
his  arms  folded  and  brow  puckered,  while 
opposite  to  him  in  an  exactly  similar  attitude 
sat  Gerald  Franklin.  It  was  the  day  after 
Miss  Franklin's  funeral,  and  the  Vicar  of  Oak- 
hill  had  taken  upon  himself  the  task  of  explain- 
ing to  the  boy  the  financial  position  of  himself 
and  his  sister. 

"You  have  no  other  relatives,  I  think,  and  I 
don't  know  who  will  be  the  new  trustee  of  your 
money.  This  is  a  sum  of  ^3000  left  you  by 
your  father,  and  it  brings  in  ^120  a  year. 
Your  aunt  had  an  annuity  of  a  similar  amount 
which  died  with  her,  but  she  had  insured  her 
life  for  .£200,  and  has  left  this  sum  to  your 
sister.  This  and  3rour  income  of  ^£120  is  what 
you  both  have  to  live  on." 

The  Vicar  felt  that  it  was  ridiculous  to  be 
speaking  of  such  matters  to  a  boy  of  this  age, 
but  talked  on  in  the  perfunctory  manner  of  a 
lawyer  reciting  to  some  young  spendthrift  the 
terms  and  conditions  of  a  mortgage. 
10 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  II 

"Whom  does  the  furniture  belong  to?"  asked 
his  companion,  in  business-like  fashion. 

"Eh?  The  furniture?  Oh,  that  is  Mon- 
ica's," said  Lowe,  in  some  surprise. 

"Is  there  any  money  in  the  bank,  or  any 
other  money  at — all?" 

"Money  in  the  bank?  Oh — er — yes;  about 
^15,  I  believe." 

"My  aunt  ought  to  have  saved  something  out 
of  my  ;£i2o  a  year,"  said  Gerald. 

The  Vicar  stared  at  the  young  gentleman 
before  him  with  the  look  which  one  might 
bestow  on  a  monkey  who  became  suddenly 
endowed  with  speech  and  offered  opinions  on 
the  subject  of  house-keeping. 

"Your  education  cost  her  a  considerable 
sum,"  he  said,  with  mild  severity,  "and  she 
thought  herself  justified  in  spending  some  of 
the  money  on  your  sister. ' ' 

"Women  are  certainly  pretty  cool  hands  in 
dealing  with  money,"  said  the  boy. 

Mr.  Lowe  sat  silent  for  the  space  of  a  min- 
ute, trying  to  realise  the  fact  that  instead  of 
consoling  a  puzzled  and  unhappy  little  boy  he 
had  to  discuss  business  with  a  sharp  man  of  the 
world.  He  was  the  mildest  and  gentlest  of 
men,  who,  when  he  said  to  a  parishioner,  "You 
grieve  me  greatly,"  imagined  that  he  had 
administered  a  stern  rebuke,  but  he  thought 


12  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

that  this  boy  certainly  wanted  whipping. 
Moreover  the  good  man  felt  somewhat  nervous 
about  himself:  he  had  agreed  and  sympathised 
with  Miss  Franklin  as  to  the  impossibility  of 
saving  money  out  of  her  narrow  income  except 
by  giving  to  the  two  children  an  inferior  edu- 
cation, and  had  advised  that  the  money  should 
be  spent  as  Miss  Franklin  had  spent  it.  She 
had,  he  argued,  taken  the  children  out  of  pure 
kindness:  their  arrival  compelled  her  in  any 
case  to  go  without  many  of  the  small  comforts 
to  which  she  was  accustomed,  since  the  chil- 
dren's income  was  insufficient  for  their  life  as 
she  had  planned  it,  and  there  was  no  actual 
necessity  to  save  money.  In  the  event  of  Miss 
Franklin's  death  the  two  children  could,  he 
supposed,  be  sent  to  school  on  the  interest  of 
Gerald's  ^3000:  the  idea  of  this  being  unjust 
or  of  Gerald  objecting  to  it  really  never 
occurred  to  the  Vicar.  Now  that  Gerald  men- 
tioned it  (and  not  till  now),  he  understood  that 
Miss  Franklin's  arrangement  had  in  fact  been 
a  trifle  unbusinesslike — "cool"  as  Gerald  had 
called  it — and  apparently  he  was  going  to  be 
called  to  account  for  it  by  this  boy.  The 
Vicar  stroked  his  beard  and  wished  devoutly 
that  he  had  left  this  task  to  Dr.  Hare.  Gerald, 
on  his  side,  sat  pondering  with  folded  arms  and 
vexed  frown.  He  knew  most  things  about 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  13 

house-keeping-  from  house-rent  down  to  the 
price  of  Malaga  raisins — which  latter  he  bought 
in  a  falling  market  to  retail  to  his  school-com- 
panions at  a  price  which  showed  himself  clearly 
the  folly  of  dealing  with  middle-men  instead 
of  directly  with  the  producer.  He  had 
remarked  more  than  once  to  his  sister  that  the 
household  was  conducted  on  very  wasteful 
principles,  and  now  his  opinion  had  received 
confirmation.  I  do  not  wish,  you  will  under- 
stand, to  suggest  that  my  young  friend  Gerald 
was  a  very  agreeable  boy,  but  I  must  do  him 
the  justice  to  point  out  that  what  he  knew  he 
knew  thoroughly.  There  were  many  persons 
who,  both  at  his  present  age  and  in  after  years, 
would  have  done  well  to  take  his  advice. 
Unfortunately  no  one  could  ever  get  beyond  a 
vehement  desire  to  box  his  ears. 

"I  do  not  think,"  said  the  Vicar,  "that  it 
would  be  kind  or  profitable"  (he  put  a  slightly 
sarcastic  emphasis  on  the  word  profitable  which 
he  hoped  would  rebuke  the  boy,  whereas 
Gerald  merely  viewed  him  with  good-humoured 
contempt  at  the  word  "kind"  and  with  sur- 
prised approbation  at  the  word  "profitable") 
"to  discuss  now  what  she  did.  It  was  done  for 
the  best  after  long  consideration.  What  I 
wished  to  talk  about  was  the  future.  Miss 
Franklin  has  appointed  Dr.  Hare  and  myself 


14  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

executors  under  her  will  and  has  asked  her 
cousin,  Miss  Christina  Bertram,  to  be  Monica's 
guardian.  I  think  it  would  be  best,  if  possible, 
to  place  you  both  under  the  same  guardian, 
and  for  you  both  to  live  with  Miss  Bertram. 
Should  you  be  willing  to  agree  to  this  if  it  can 
be  arranged?" 

"I  couldn't  answer  just  yet,"  said  Gerald 
cautiously. 

"For  us  to  ask  your  consent  to  our  arrange- 
ment," said  the  Vicar  drily,  "is  rather  a  matter 
of  politeness  than  necessity,  you  know." 

'I  know  that,"  was  the  quiet  reply,  "but  I 
think  it  would  be  more  pleasant  and  easy-going 
for  all  parties  if  I  did  happen  to  like  your 
arrangement." 

Mr.  Lowe  lay  back  in  his  chair  and  stared  at 
his  companion  with  absolute  dismay.  What  on 
earth  had  he  done  in  thrusting  himself  into 
such  a  post  as  adviser  to  these  children  and 
trustee  to  one  of  them?  Why  had  he  offered  to 
undertake  such  a  task?  He  had  rarely  seen 
this  boy  and  knew  nothing  whatever  of  him 
except  what  Miss  Franklin  had  told  him — that 
Gerald  was  "a  little  precocious  in  business- 
matters."  A  little  precocious!  The  creature 
was  a  full-fledged  business-man  fit  to  go  on  the 
Stock-Exchange  or  set  up  a  money-lending 
establishment  this  afternoon!  Miss  Franklin 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  15 

had  expressed  her  fears  lest  Mr.  Lowe  should 
find  the  post  a  tiresome  one — "full  of  small 
worries"  was  her  exact  expression — and  he 
thought  now  that  she  was  very  likely  to  prove 
right.  Her  words,  he  said  to  himself,  were  a 
euphonious  description  of  the  situation  of  a  man 
in  a  hornets'  nest  without  his  clothes  on. 

"Do  you  know  Miss  Bertram?"  he  asked. 

"Oh  yes,"  said  Gerald.  "She  used  to  come 
and  see  Aunt  Marian  pretty  often.  There  is 
really  nothing  particular  against  her  being 
guardian,  but — are  you  sure  we  have  no  other 
relations?" 

"Miss  Franklin  spoke  once  of  a  relative — an 
uncle,  I  think — who  went  out  to  South  Africa 
many  years  ago.  I  gathered  in  fact  that  she 
was  a  favourite  of  his,  that  they  were  very 
great  friends  once,  but  nothing  has  been  heard 
of  him  for  many  years.  I  believe  he  is  sup- 
posed to  have  been  killed  in  the  last  Zulu  War. 
You  probably  have  some  other  relations  some- 
where, but  I  don't  know  who  they  are." 

"Well,  that's  a  mercy,"  said  Gerald,  "there'll 
be  nobody  to  lend  money  to." 

Mrs.  Lowe  came  into  the  room  at  this  point. 
She  had  intended  to  allow  her  husband  a 
reasonable  time  in  which  to  explain  money- 
matters  to  Gerald,  and  then  come  in  with 
motherly  pity  and  consolation.  She  had  also 


1 6  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

prepared  a  large  tea — knowing  something  about 
the  nature  of  bo5^s  in  general — with  abundance 
of  cake,  and  meant  to  proffer  first  pity  and 
then  cake  as  consolation.  As  a  preliminary  to 
both  she  put  a  hand  on  the  boy's  shoulder  and 
kissed  him,  at  which  her  husband  looked 
shocked  and  amazed,  and  Gerald  murmured, 
"Oh,  Lord!" 

"Has  Mr.  Lowe  finished  talking  to  you,  my 
dear,"  she  asked,  noticing  nothing;  "it  must 
have  been  so  sad  for  you  listening  to  the  story 
of  all  that  your  dear  aunt  has  done,  and  the 
arrangements  which  she  has  made  for  you.  I 
do  so  hope  that  you  and  Monica  will  be  very 
happy.  Have  you  finished  talking  to  Gerald, 
my  dear?" 

"Yes,"  said  her  husband,  looking  round  him 
rather  doubtfully.  He  had  an  impression  that 
it  was  Gerald  who  had  done  most  of  the  talk- 
ing, and  that  he  himself  had  come  rather  dis- 
creditably than  otherwise  out  of  the  interview. 
However,  it  was  over,  which  was  a  great 
point,  and  he  was  relieved  to  see  Mrs.  Lowe 
leading  the  youth  away,  though  he  could  have 
wished  that  her  arm  was  not  round  Gerald's 
neck.  The  young  scamp  just  gave  the  Vicar  a 
little  look  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye  as  he 
passed,  which  said:  "This  must  be  a  very  dis- 
tressing affair  for  you  to  witness,  but  I  pledge 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  17 

my  word  that  I  have  given  her  no  encourage- 
ment." 

Being  seated  at  tea  he  became  affably  con- 
versational, as  though  recognising  that  Mr. 
Lowe  had  meant  to  do  well,  and  had  failed 
through  no  fault  of  his  own.  He  spoke  of  the 
poor  of  the  parish,  lamenting  their  improvi- 
dence, drunkenness  and  general  incapacity. 
His  friend  Mr.  Muirhead  had  explained  to  him 
a  system  by  which  a  man  might,  by  paying  a 
very  small  yearly  sum  from  the  time  he  was 
twenty,  receive  a  regular  pension  at  sixty,  or 
even  before  if  he  increased  the  earlier  pay- 
ments. Every  one  ought  to  insure  themselves 
against  old  age  in  this  manner.  .  .  .  Even 
Mrs.  Lowe  became  a  trifle  puzzled  and  sus- 
picious as  the  boy  talked  on.  She  had  heard 
persons  by  the  dozen  talk  like  that  before,  but 
she  had  never  gone  into  tea  with  her  arm 
round  their  neck.  The  poor  woman  got  quite 
hot  at  the  recollection. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  meal  Mr.  Lowe  made 
a  resolute  effort  to  get  back  to  the  question  of 
guardianship.  He  was  sorry  for  Miss  Chris- 
tina Bertram,  but  he  supposed  that  in  appoint- 
ing her  to  be  guardian  to  one  child,  and  asking 
her  to  be  guardian  to  the  other,  Miss  Franklin 
had  known  what  she  was  doing.  He  could  not 
of  course  be  aware  of  the  truth— that  Miss 


1 8  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

Franklin  knew  as  much  or  as  little  about  the 
boy's  character  as  he  did  himself. 

"I  suppose  then,"  he  said,  trying  to  speak 
lightly  and  cheerfully,  "we  may  take  it  for 
granted  that  you  will  be  content  to  live  with 
Miss  Bertram?" 

"I  cannot  answer  now,"  was  the  politely 
resolute  reply.  "I  must  talk  to  my  friend, 
Mr.  Muirhead." 


CHAPTER    III 

In  introducing  the  villain  of  his  piece  the 
dramatist  has  a  great  advantage  over  the 
novelist.  If  a  man  comes  on  to  the  stage  with 
black  whiskers,  rolling  eyes,  a  terrific  frown, 
immaculate  trousers  and  a  hoarse  whisper,  you 
see  the  villain  before  you,  you  hear  his  dark 
innuendoes,  watch  his  blighting  though  loving 
glances  at  the  heroine,  and  you  know  without 
further  words  or  elaborate  introduction  that  the 
man  is  ready  for  forgery,  abduction,  highway 
robbery  or  murder,  as  circumstances  shall  dic- 
tate. Even  if  his  actions  are  dull  he  can 
always  loll  about  and  look  picturesquely 
rascally.  Like  the  young  lady  who,  consult- 
ing a  manager  as  to  whether  she  could  play 
Juliet,  was  told  that  she  would  look  very  nice 
in  the  tomb,  so  any  man  aided  by  burnt  cork 
can  make  something  on  the  stage  of  a  villain's 
part. 

But  the  novelist's  introduction  of  this  char- 
acter is  much  less  effective.  How  laborious  is 
the  written  catalogue  of  his  points — the  sinister 
frown,  the  shifty  eye,  the  stealthy  tread! 
19 


2O  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

How  dull  the  fellow  is  except  when  he  is  mov- 
ing briskly  about  with  his  knife  or  pen  and 
book  of  (somebody  else's)  cheques! 

I  beg  therefore  for  the  kind  toleration  of  the 
reader  while  Gerald's  friend  Mr.  Sampson  Muir- 
head  is  clothed  with  such  flesh  and  blood  and 
raiment  as  my  poor  pen  can  depict.  Frankly 
he  would  have  made  but  a  poor  figure  on  the 
stage  and  is  not  worth,  so  far  as  externals 
are  concerned,  a  very  elaborate  description. 
Figure  to  yourself,  please,  a  thin,  starved-look- 
ing  man  of  medium  height  and  some  thirty 
summers — though  he  did  not  look  as  if  any- 
thing so  wholesome  and  warm  as  summer  had 
ever  been  near  him — with  grey,  rather  pleasing 
eyes,  straight,  narrow  pointed  nose,  a  wide 
mouth  and  an  expression  of  absolute  vacuity. 
That  was  his  ordinary  appearance,  without 
interest  to  any  man.  There  were  persons, 
however,  who  had  seen  the  thin  lips  set,  and 
eyes  grow  hard  and  keen,  and  nose  twitch  like 
that  of  a  cat  with  a  bird  under  its  foot,  and 
these  persons  said  that  if  they  ever  had  to  do 
business  with  Mr.  Muirhead  they  would  choose 
the  morning,  before  lunch,  on  a  day  when  their 
wits  were  sharpest,  for  its  transaction.  Prob- 
ably they  were  right,  for  the  gentleman  had 
been  meddling,  ever  since  he  was  eighteen, 
with  various  bits  of  business  in  which  one  side 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  21 

or  the  other  had  mostly  got  to  burn  its  ringers, 
and  if  any  fingers  had  been  burnt  during  these 
years  they  had  not  been  those  of  Mr.  Muirhead. 
Sampson  was  just  now  in  a  position  which 
seemed  sufficiently  harmless  so  far  as  financial 
operations  were  concerned.  He  was  master  in 
a  high  school  in  Stoke-on-Trent,  and  though 
he  might  have  presented  Stock- Exchange 
problems  to  his  arithmetic  classes,  could  not, 
one  would  imagine,  have  had  any  serious  influ- 
ence for  good  or  ill  on  the  neighbourhood. 
But  the  fact  is  that  in  money  matters  people 
will  take  any  advice,  so  long  as  it  is  risky 
enough,  and  the  adviser  is  not  a  broker,  lawyer 
or  other  person  whose  business  it  is  to  give  it. 
A  schoolmaster  thus  has  many  advantages  as  a 
financial  councillor.  He  knows  no  more  and 
no  less  about  such  matters  than  the  parson,  the 
friendly  post-master,  or  other  persons  who  are 
usually  consulted,  but  from  mere  habit  he 
speaks  with  more  authority.  He  is  so  accus- 
tomed to  stating  in  a  masterful  voice  that 
seven  times  one  are  seven  to  an  audience  who 
dared  not  if  they  could  dispute  the  fact,  that 
he  talks  about  gold-mines,  railways  and  build- 
ing-societies, in  the  same  way;  and  finds  too 
that  men  are  but  long-legged  boys,  and  will 
listen  with  similar  docility  to  any  one  who 
speaks  with  decision.  Muirhead  besides  had 


22  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

the  jargon  of  the  money-market  at  command, 
an  accomplishment  which  would  impress  no  one 
nowadays,  when  your  baby,  if  it  could  speak, 
would  ask  for  "Chartered"  shares  as  a  chris- 
tening present,  but  was  a  matter  for  local 
wonder  then.  He  was  a  clever  man,  too,  as 
evidenced  by  the  position  to  which  he  had 
attained  at  the  age  of  thirty,  and  could  make  a 
little  knowledge  go  further  than  most  people, 
besides  being  possessed  of  a  discrimination 
amounting  to  an  instinct  as  to  the  company  in 
which  it  was  and  was  not  safe  to  show  it  off. 
Soon  after  his  arrival  at  Stoke  he  made  a  little 
money  for  himself  and  his  friends  by  a  small 
speculation  in  Mexican  Rails;  the  friends 
talked  far  and  wide  about  the  author  of  their 
success;  people  begged  for  an  introduction  to 
this  magician  who  could  bring  gold  from  the 
clouds.  In  short  Muirhead  had  not  been  in  his 
position  for  a  year  before  he  became  known  as 
a  man  who  could  influence  capital  to  a  quite 
appreciable  extent,  and  such  a  reputation  flies 
nearly  as  far  and  fast  as  a  reputation  for  hav- 
ing the  capital  itself  in  your  bank. 

To  a  casual  observer  of  men  and  things — to  a 
person  going  about  the  world,  so  to  speak,  with 
a  rough  note-book  and  jotting  down  mere 
results  of  superficial  observation,  without  car- 
ing to  consider  their  connection  or  results,  it 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  23 

must  seem  sometimes  as  if  Providence,  having 
put  a  raw  rather  helpless  person  on  a  hedge 
between  good  and  evil,  occasionally  heaped  up 
to  an  unnecessary  extent  the  influences  which 
should  make  him  come  down  on  the  wrong 
side.  Gerald  Franklin  had  his  good  points. 
All  men  have.  Even  Turkish  Paschas  and 
Belgian  Colonial  officials  and  American  railway 
speculators  are  not  as  black  as  they  are  painted 
— though  they  have  so  many  other  points  of 
resemblance  to  the  devil  that  one  feels  no 
desire  for  closer  intimacy  with  them.  Gerald 
was  quick,  industrious,  accurate,  patient  and 
scrupulously  just,  and  there  was  nobody  among 
all  his  elders  who  could  appreciate  or  recognise 
these  qualities  in  him  or  help  him  to  develop 
them  aright.  On  the  other  hand  he  was  con- 
ceited, avaricious,  and  not  very  scrupulously 
honest  (a  failing  which  is  not  incompatible  with 
being  just),  and  by  mere  chance  Sampson 
Muirhead  had  become  his  most  intimate  friend 
and  counsellor.  This,  I  maintain,  was  hard 
luck  on  Gerald,  who  was  running  the  race  of 
life  with  an  amount  of  over-weight  which 
handicapped  him  quite  out  of  the  contest.  The 
odds  were  1,000  to  i  against  him. 

Gerald  spent  the  evening  thinking  over  Mr. 
Lowe's  statement  and  by  bedtime  had  decided 
on  which  points  he  meant  to  ask  Muirhead's 


24  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

advice,  and  on  which  other  points  he  had 
already  made  up  his  own  mind  and  wanted  no 
advice.  The  youth  had  method.  In  the  morn- 
ing at  school  he  went  through  a  Virgil  lesson 
with  his  accustomed  air  of  good-humoured 
contempt,  wrote  a  short  essay  on  the  Spanish 
Colonies,  the  information  in  which  was  so 
much  fuller  and  more  accurate  than  that  in  the 
geography,  book  out  of  which  he  was  supposed 
to  have  obtained  it  that  the  master  could  not 
make  up  his  mind  how  to  mark  it ;  and  at  last 
the  boy  found  himself  free  and  by  Mr.  Muir- 
head's  side. 

"Well,  Franklin,  have  you  made  any  plans 
yet?" 

"I  have  been  thinking  over  some,  sir,  and 
wanted  your  advice  if  you  could  spare  me  half- 
an-hour. " 

"Certainly."  The  man  eyed  his  little  com- 
panion for  a  moment,  and  again  on  his  face 
was  the  look  of  a  cat  with  a  bird  in  its  claws. 

Gerald  briefly  recapitulated  what  Mr.  Lowe 
had  told  him,  and  went  on:  "This  Miss  Ber- 
tram lives  only  just  a  little  further  off  from 
here  than  my  aunt  did,  so  I  should  come  here 
just  the  same.  It  is  a  choice  between  my 
going  to  school  as  a  boarder  somewhere  else  at 
a  cheaper  place  or  staying  here  and  living  with 
her." 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  25 

"Stay  here, "  said  the  man  decisively — rather 
eagerly  in  fact.  "The  education  is  very  good; 
you  could  hardly  get  anything  better  for  the 
money  anywhere ;  and  I  think  I  may  say  that 
you  will  find  me  of  some  use  to  you.  From  here 
you  will  easily  pass  on  to  some  business  post  in 
the  mines  or  potteries,  or  if  you  liked  it  better 
you  could  get  into  one  of  the  banks  or  lawyer's 
offices.  I  will  tell  you  something  about  myself 
if  you  won't  repeat  it." 

"I  promise  not  to,  sir." 

"In  a  year's  time,  when  my  engagement 
here  is  at  an  end,  I  am  going  to  set  up  a  little 
business  of  my  own.  I  shall  begin,  I  hope, 
with  an  agency  for  the  Merton  Insurance  Com- 
pany and  one  or  two  little  things  will  follow. 
In  two  years'  time  when  you  are  thinking  of 
leaving  school  you  may  find  it  worth  while  to 
come  and  join  me.  I  advise  you  to  stay  on 
here." 

"What  capital  would  your  business  want?" 
asked  the  boy  cautioiisly. 

"None,  my  dear  fellow;  only  brains  and 
push,  and  a  few  matters  like  book-keeping, 
which  you  could  pick  up  in  a  month  or 
two. ' ' 

"Will  you  undertake  to  teach  me  that  while 
I  am  here?" 

Gerald  was  perfectly  aware  that  a  bargain 


26  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

was  being  driven,  and  meant  to  have  the  terms 
of  it  clear. 

"Certainly.  We  will  begin  directly  you  have 
settled  down  at  Miss  Bertram's,"  said  the 
other,  who  was  accustomed  to  his  pupil's  style 
of  doing  business,  and  admired  it.  He  had 
himself  given  nothing  for  nothing  all  his  life, 
having  indeed  made  but  one  present  in  the 
course  of  his  thirty  years,  and  that  was  merely 
to  give  his  deceased  mother's  false  teeth  to  his 
landlady. 

"I  will  join  you,"  said  Gerald  deliberately, 
"if  you  have  got  that  agency  when  I  leave 
here.  There  would  be  work  for  two  even  in 
that ;  and  of  course  we  should  get  plenty  more 
work  of  that  kind. ' ' 

"Yes,  I  could  command  plenty,"  said  the 
other,  with  a  dry  emphasis  on  the  personal 
pronoun. 

Gerald  looked  at  his  master  out  of  the  corner 
of  his  eyes,  and  a  very  faint  smile  twitched  his 
face.  No  respect  for  Muirhead  kept  him 
silent,  yet  he  said  nothing.  It  was  odd  that  in 
this  little  personal  altercation  the  boy  was  the 
first  to  drop  into  contemptuous  silence. 


CHAPTER   IV 

There  are  old  maids  and  old  maids.  Some 
have  the  recognised  habits  of  the  species 
encrusted  on  them  too  thickly  and  fast  to  allow 
of  any  alteration  by  any  accident ;  others  for 
some  imperceptible  reason  slough  these  habits 
like  a  snake  his  skin  (only  that  they  really 
renew  them),  and  astonish  and  occasionally 
terrify  their  relations  into  fits.  I  knew  a 
maiden  lady  of  fifty  who  was  so  much  struck 
by  the  effect  wrought  on  a  lively  contemporary 
by  a  little  rouge  that  she  bought  some  herself, 
moved  from  a  respectable  Sussex  village  into 
the  giddy  frivolity  of  Brighton,  and  went  to 
every  ball  for  five  miles  round  (in  a  white  dress 
with  blue  ribbons)  till  she  died.  I  knew 
another  who,  having  spent  a  long  and  virtuous 
life  in  cultivating  poetry  and  selling  eggs,  sud- 
denly lost  her  head  at  the  sight  of  a  bicycle, 
invested  all  her  egg-savings  in  a  "Humber" 
with  the  latest  improvements,  and  was 
arrested  by  the  police  three  times  in  five 
weeks  for  scorching.  Such  reminiscences  are 
not,  however,  in  any  way  (except  by  the 
law  of  contraries)  suggested  by  Miss  Christina 
27 


28  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

Bertram,  the  lady  to  whom  Fate,  in  unkind 
caprice,  had  assigned  the  charge  of  Gerald 
Franklin  and  his  sister. 

Miss  Bertram  was  a  queen  among  old  maids, 
a  precision  compared  to  whom  Greenwich 
Observatory  clock  was  a  disorderly  and  rowdy 
piece  of  mechanism.  She  never  broke,  upset, 
spoilt,  or  changed  anything;  she  did  every- 
thing at  the  same  hour  every  day  every  week, 
and  had  detested  all  hurry  and  unrest  from  the 
days  when  she  screamed  at  her  cradle  being 
rocked  to  this  very  morning  when  she  had 
reproved  Jane  for  telling  Bridget  to  "hurry 
up  with  getting  those  children's  bedrooms 
ready."  She  lived  in  the  little  suburb  of 
Stoke  called  Hartshill,  near  to  the  Infirm- 
ary, of  which  she  was  a  pillar  of  support.  The 
house  had  at  first  been  taken  to  accommodate 
Miss  Bertram's  brother,  who  had  also  sup- 
ported the  Infirmary  (as  Secretary)  for  some 
time,  but  was  found  at  length  to  be  rather  in 
the  nature  of  a  flying  buttress,  since  he  had 
absconded  to  Spain  with  most  of  the  current 
funds.  Miss  Bertram  had  paid  the  greater 
part  of  the  money  and  no  more  was  heard  from 
or  about  her  brother  by  any  human  being  in 
England  except  a  certain  Stoke  lawyer  who 
twice  a  year  paid  a  certain  sum  of  money  on 
Miss  Bertram's  behalf  into  a  bank  at  Madrid, 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  29 

and  after  an  interval  of  varying  length  got 
receipts  from  Madrid,  Rio  Janeiro,  Buenos 
Ayres,  and  other  places  resorted  to  by  gentle- 
men for  whom  the  police  have  made  other 
(though  futile)  arrangements.  This  little  inci- 
dent happened  eleven  years  ago,  and  Miss  Ber- 
tram still  occupied  the  house  on  Hartshill, 
looking  down  through  a  cloud  of  blue  smoke 
into  the  valley  where  men  and  women  worked 
in  their  small  companies — flat-pressers,  hollow- 
ware  pressers,  "jolly  women,"  casters  and 
squeezers — and  the  great  crates  of  dishes, 
plates,  jugs,  basins,  jam-pots,  cups  and  vases, 
were  packed  and  swung  into  barges,  for  a 
reality  of  308.  a  week  and  a  vision  of  heaven 
knows  what  wealth  and  fame.  In  the  blue 
smoke-clouds  Fortune  hovered,  sometimes  out 
of  sight  and  sometimes  in :  you  could  hear  the 
rustle  of  her  wings  in  those  halcyon  days  as  she 
made  a  swoop,  now  on  some  young  inventor, 
now  on  some  lucky  speculator,  and  lifted  him 
up  into  the  sunshine.  During  the  daytime  the 
smoke-cloud  hung  motionless  or  in  a  high  wind 
rocked  slowly  to  and  fro,  floating  past  the  tall 
chimneys  out  of  which  it  had  come :  while  at 
night  the  orange-red  light  of  colliery  and  iron- 
work furnaces  throbbed  through  it  and  played 
over  it  like  the  rays  of  a  flashing  light-ship 
over  a  heaving  sea-swell. 


30  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

Miss  Bertram  was  expecting  the  arrival  of 
the  two  children  one  Wednesday  afternoon  in 
May.  She  had  thought  of  going  to  fetch  them, 
but  considered  that  they  would  prefer  to  go 
through  their  home-partings  alone,  and  she  sat 
now  at  her  sitting-room  window  watching  for  a 
luggage-laden  cab.  It  came  into  view  pres- 
ently, crawling  up  the  steep  hill  and  stopping 
opposite  her  low  green  gate.  The  children  got 
out  and  walked  soberly  and  a  little  shyly  up 
the  front  to  the  doorstep  on  which  she  was 
standing. 

"How  do  you  do,  Aunt  Christina?"  said 
Monica;  "we  are  so  glad  to  be  here." 

"It  is  very  kind  of  you  to  take  us,  Aunt 
Christina,"  said  Gerald. 

Miss  Bertram  had  asked  the  children  to  call 
her  Aunt  Christina  and  they  did  so  obediently. 
Gerald  always  conceded  these  small  unim- 
portant points,  maintaining  that  to  do  so  sur- 
prised people  into  conceding  him  large  and 
important  ones.  Miss  Bertram,  watching  him, 
saw  with  satisfaction  that  he  wiped  his  boots 
on  the  door-mat,  hung  his  hat  and  coat  in  their 
proper  place  in  the  hall,  and  walked  twice 
across  the  drawing-room,  entered  the  dining- 
room,  and  finished  his  tea  without  breaking 
anything  or  even  treading  on  the  cat's  tail. 
She  said  to  herself — rashly — that  he  was  a 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  31 

model  boy,  and  having  had  no  expectation  of 
finding  him  more  than  tolerable  she  made  up 
her  mind  that  she  could  tolerate  him,  and  so 
turned  her  attention  to  Monica. 

And  now,  the  villain  of  the  piece  having 
been  presented,  we  will  if  you  please  look  at 
the  person  who  (if  it  is  not  premature  to  make 
such  an  announcement)  is  to  be  the  heroine. 

Once  upon  a  time,  when  Monica  Franklin 
was  half-way  between  her  seventh  and  eighth 
birthdays,  there  arose  some  trifling  occasion 
when  one  of  the  children — only  one  because 
money  had  to  be  carefully  guarded — was  to 
accompany  their  aunt  on  a  visit  to  a  certain 
relative  where  strawberries,  sponge-cakes, 
"tips,"  and  other  matters  dear  to  the  seven- 
year-old  heart,  would  certainly  be  plentiful. 
Monica  was  first  invited  to  go,  but  declined: 
"Cousin  Alison  would  like  to  see  me  best," 
she  said;  "but  Gerald  would  like  to  go  best. 
Take  Gerald."  And  Gerald  went.  Written 
on  the  child's  face  as  she  made  her  decision 
you  might  see  even  then  the  proud  little 
knowledge  of  her  own  value  in  the  world,  the 
certainty  that  people  whose  love  and  respect 
were  worth  having  loved  and  respected  her, 
and  also  the  quietly  resolute  unselfishness 
whose  existence  is  a  long  wonder  to  those  who 
possess  only  the  saving  grace  of  being  able  to 


32  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

admire  it.  Now  at  the  age  of  fifteen  Monica 
was  for  a  time  inclined  to  exaggerate  this  self- 
renunciation,  to  give  up  things  needlessly,  to 
fling  self  and  the  world  too  far  on  one  side,  and 
yet  to  guard  a  very  high — rather  conceited  per- 
haps— idea  of  her  own  importance  in  the  world. 
As  you  may  sometimes  see  a  little  child  throw 
away  all  its  toys  and  fall  upon  a  chair  in  an 
apparently  complete  abandonment  of  woe, 
while  all  the  time  it  has  one  eye  on  its  nurse 
or  mother  to  see  that  its  sorrow  is  being 
watched  and  to  hint  mutely  that  it  is  still  open 
to  be  consoled  by  kisses  and  chocolate :  so  their 
elders  may  be  noticed  sometimes  doing  their 
good  works  not  for  men  to  see  but  with  the  too 
evident  knowledge  that  men  do  see,  and  too 
high  an  estimate  of  what  is  being  done.  And 
for  Miss  Monica's  personal  appearance?  Was 
she  lovely  as  an  old-fashioned  heroine  or  ugly 
as  a  new-fashioned  one  should  be?  I  know  not 
yet.  I  am  blind  as  regards  little  children, 
seeing  only  something  which  is  small  and  inno- 
cent and  fresh  and  therefore  fair,  and  being 
myself  content  at  any  moment  to  exchange  a 
room  full  of  the  most  lovely  women  in  London 
for  the  company  of  one  little  maiden  with  a 
brain  full  of  fairy-stories  and  eyes  which  ask 
questions  about  all  things,  of  all  men,  and 
believe  all  the  answers.  What  indeed  is  the 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  33 

pleasure  of  raven  locks  and  flowing  tresses  if 
you  may  not  stroke  them?  of  rose-petal  cheeks 
if  they  are  not  to  be  kissed?  And  would  you 
choose  to  listen  to  the  talk  of  balls  and  fash- 
ions, of  theatres,  scandal  and  theology,  to  stale 
cynicism  and  staler  philosophy — oh !  the  weari- 
ness of  it ! — when  you  can  have  my  little  lady's 
company  with  her  whispers  from  the  dawn  of 
life,  with  her  breath  of  hope,  and  youth  and 
novelty,  and  faith?  Miss  Bertram  at  any  rate 
fell  in  love  with  her  young  charge  from  that 
Wednesday  evening,  and  watched  over  her  and 
puzzled  over  her  as  maiden  ladies  sometimes 
will  over  such  living  problems,  making  little 
advances,  proffering  timid  bits  of  help,  hold- 
ing but  experienced  hands  and  showing  the 
stepping-stones  at  life's  most  dangerous  cross- 
ings. The  two,  woman  and  child,  understood 
and  loved  one  another  from  the  first.  "She  is 
worth  all  our  care ;  we  shall  all  be  proud  of  her 
one  day,"  said  Miss  Christina  to  her  chief 
crony,  the  Vicar  of  Hartshill. 

"And  the  boy?"  asked  Mr.  Lowe,  curiously. 

"He  is  very  nice  too.  A  quiet,  well-man- 
nered, harmless  little  fellow.  I  like  him  very 
much,  though  he  has  not  got  anything  like  his 
sister's  brains,  or  cleverness,  or  industry.  He 
has  asked  leave  to  bring  his  friend  Mr.  Muir- 
head  to  tea  here  this  afternoon — one  of  the 


34  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

masters  at  his  school,  you  know,  and  a  great 
friend  of  Gerald's.  It  is  a  good  sign  when  a 
boy  and  his  master  are  friends,  isn't  it?" 

Mr.  Lowe  looked  round  him  doubtfully ;  he 
hardly  liked  to  express  the  deep  suspicion  with 
which  he  himself  regarded  Gerald  and  all  his 
friends. 

"Here  they  come,"  went  on  Miss  Bertram, 
as  the  boy  and  his  master  walked  up  the  front. 
"You  will  stay  and  have  tea  with  us,  Mr. 
Lowe,  won't  you?  Have  you  ever  met  Mr. 
Muirhead?" 

"Yes,  oh  yes,"  said  the  parson.  He  had 
risen  as  if  to  go,  and  now  stood  hesitating, 
realising  with  a  shock  of  surprise  that  he 
regarded  this  boy  with  something  absolutely 
like  fear.  "It  is  too  absurd, "  he  muttered  to 
himself,  and  accepting  Miss  Bertram's  invita- 
tion he  went  and  stood  by  the  mantel-piece 
with  his  eyes  on  the  door. 

Muirhead  was  very  soon  on  a  friendly  footing 
with  the  company,  talking  of  Infirmary  busi- 
ness, of  the  last  big  order  received  by  Messrs. 
Wedgewood,  and  other  local  matters  with  the 
detailed  accuracy  and  decision  which  always 
marked  his  gossip.  At  tea  he  sat  next  to 
Monica,  who  had  a  child's  instinctive  dislike  of 
him,  but  as  the  man  was  Gerald's  friend  did 
not  care  to  show  it  or  speak  of  it.  He  asked 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  35 

her  if  she  had  yet  made  friends  with  Mary 
Carton,  who  lived  near  by.  The  child  said 
no:  her  aunt  only  knew  the  Cartons  very 
slightly. 

"Mr.  Carton  goes  to  races  and  bets  and  specu- 
lates,"  said  Miss  Bertram,  shaking  a  big  knife 
at  a  loaf  of  bread  as  if  the  loaf  were  Tattersal's 
Ring,  and  she  were  about  to  hack  it  in  pieces. 
"He  made  all  his  money  by  speculation.  I 
should  not  like  Gerald  to  be  intimate  with  him 
or  his  sons.  I  am  sure  indeed  that  Gerald 
would  not  care  for  such  people. ' ' 

Mr.  Lowe  glanced  at  Gerald,  but  the  boy 
was  eating  his  bread  and  butter  steadily  with- 
out paying  any  apparent  attention.  He  scarcely 
seemed  to  hear  his  aunt's  remarks  or  Muir- 
head's  reply. 

"I  think,"  said  the  latter,  "you  can  hardly 
say  that  he  got  his  money  by  speculation.  He 
joined  with  some  other  friends  in  buying  some 
shares  in  a  company  to  make  a  railway  in 
Argentine.  The  railway  was  built  and  was 
very  successful.  Is  that  speculation?" 

"No  one  has  any  business  to  want  more  than 
three  per  cent,  for  their  money,"  said  Miss 
Bertram  dogmatically.  "Don't  you  think  so, 
too,  Mr.  Lowe?" 

"I  must  confess  that  I  am  getting  three  and 
a  half  for  the  ^4,000  which  poor  Mrs.  Monckton 


36  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

left  me,"  said  the  parson  with  a  smile,  "but  I 
think  that  is  quite  enough." 

"You  would  get  just  double — seven  per  cent. 
— in  the  East  Argentine  Railway,"  said  Gerald 
quietly.  "That  would  be  ^280  a  year,  and  it 
would  be  quite  safe." 

Miss  Bertram  looked  at  the  boy  with  sus- 
picion, Mr.  Lowe  with  a  sudden  renewal  of 
vague  fear.  He  had  then  been  listening  to 
and  taking  in  everything.  Of  course  there  had 
been  no  harm  in  the  conversation,  but  how 
should  this  lad  know  that  the  East  Argentine 
Railway  paid  seven  per  cent. ,  and  how  had  he 
been  able  to  calculate  in  ten  seconds  that 
^4,000  at  seven  per  cent,  would  produce  ^280 
a  year?  Mr.  Lowe  would  have  required  a  pen- 
cil and  paper  and  five  minutes  to  do  the  sum. 

"I  know  more  than  one  sound  business 
where  you  can  get  eight  per  cent,  nowadays," 
added  Muirhead. 

"I  would  rather  buy  tickets  in  a  lottery!" 
said  Miss  Bertram  angrily. 

Seeing  that  she  was  really  annoyed,  Muir- 
head turned  the  conversation  skilfully. 

"I  am  surprised  at  the  number  of  lotteries 
which  exist  in  this  neighbourhood,"  he  said. 
"Harper  has  one  at  the  Red  Lion;  Grenfell 
had  two  last  Christmas  at  his  house ;  Roberts 
had  one  every  Christmas,  with  prizes  of  geese, 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  37 

turkeys  and  plum-puddings,  but  he  will  never 
have  another.  He  used  to  win  several — some- 
times half — of  the  prizes  himself,  and  people 
talked  of  his  good  luck.  The  lottery  was 
managed  like  this:  small  pieces  of  tin  were 
numbered  and  put  into  a  bag  and  one  was 
drawn  out  by  the  man's  little  seven-year-old 
daughter.  Last  Christmas  when  the  drawing 
was  going  on  there  was  a  long  pause,  the  child 
holding  her  hand  in  the  bag  for  an  unusually 
long  time.  Her  father  told  her  to  be  quick,  to 
which  the  child  answered:  'I  can't  find  the  hot 
one,  father'!  There  won't  be  any  more  lot- 
teries at  the  Old  Canal  Inn  at  Tunstall!" 

"To  make  his  innocent  child  a  party  to  such 
wickedness!"  said  Miss  Bertram,  who  always 
made  the  inevitable  comment  on  a  story. 
"That  Roberts  was  one  of  your  parishioners, 
Mr.  Lowe,  wasn't  he?" 

The  Vicar  answered  yes  without  further 
comment.  He  had  been  watching  Gerald's 
face  again.  At  the  point  of  Muirhead's  story 
the  boy's  lips  had  turned  down  and  his  eyes 
had  lit  up  with  the  beginning  of  a  good  laugh. 
Then  at  Miss  Bertram's  words  every  symptom 
of  amusement  had  disappeared  and  he  had 
gone  on  eating  quite  gravely,  so  that  a  casual 
observer  would  have  judged  that  he  saw  as 
little  point  in  the  story  as  Monica  did.  It  was 


38  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

a  curiously  clever  bit  of  acting,  as  Mr.  Lowe 
admitted  to  himself,  with  a  mental  addition  of 
"the  wretched  little  hypocrite!" 

Tea  being  over,  Miss  Bertram  led  the  way 
back  to  the  drawing-room,  and  began  a  conver- 
sation with  Muirhead,  who  feeling  that  he  had 
not  yet  made  a  very  favourable  impression 
talked  more  seriously  while  Mr.  Lowe  sat 
down  by  Gerald. 

"You  are  happy  here?"  he  asked  in  a  kindly 
voice,  resolute  to  overcome  his  antipathy  to  his 
young  charge. 

"Yes,  thank  you." 

"And  has  your  aunt  made  any  plans  for  you, 
or" — Gerald's  face  had  remained  absolutely 
expressionless,  and  yet  something  compelled 
the  Vicar  to  add — "have  you  made  any  for 
yourself?" 

"Oh  no,  none." 

"Yet  it  is  time  to  begin  to  think  of  this,  isn't 
it?" 

"Yes,  perhaps  it  is. "  There  was  an  air  of 
polite  resignation  on  Gerald's  face  which  would 
have  enchanted  a  cynical  spectator.  He  was 
evidently  saying  to  himself:  "Parsons  and 
platitudes  happen  to  all  men  sometimes.  I 
will  not  even  yawn  in  this  worthy  man's  face  if 
I  can  help  it. "  So  he  sat  giving  gentle  assent- 
ing answers  to  everything  said  by  Mr.  Lowe, 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  39 

while  he  listened  anxiously  to  the  conversation 
between  his  relation  and  Mr.  Muirhead.  He 
was  nervous  about  it:  vexed  at  his  master's 
failure  at  tea-time:  anxious  that  they  should 
make  friends  now  if  it  was  not  too  late.  It 
mattered  much  both  to  man  and  boy  for  certain 
reasons  that  this  should  be  so.  Muirhead  had 
arrived  to-day  easily  confident,  believing  in  his 
own  power  to  make  himself  agreeable  to  any 
one;  the  boy  (who  believed  in  no  one)  had 
warned  him  to  be  careful  where  so  much  was 
concerned,  and  he  had  not  been  careful  and 
things  had  gone  wrong.  There  was  a  change 
for  the  better  before  Muirhead  left  the  house, 
but  the  visit,  Gerald  told  himself,  had  not  been 
a  success. 


CHAPTER   V 

The  number  of  signs  and  omens  which 
prophesy  disaster  (after  the  disaster  has 
occurred)  to  "every  one  with  eyes  in  his  head" 
is  truly  remarkable.  When  an  engagement  is 
broken  off  half  the  friends  of  the  lady  appear 
to  have  "known  from  the  first"  by  certain 
symptoms  that  it  would  never  last.  When  a 
man  takes  to  gambling  or  drinking  and  finally 
uses  (or  misuses)  his  razor  to  his  throat,  his 
relatives  have  mostly  "seen  it  in  his  eye" 
(horses,  brandy-bottle  and  razor  complete) 
from  infancy.  Thus  when  at  a  subsequent 
date  the  newspapers  were  full  of  the  names  of 
Messrs.  Gerald  Franklin  and  Sampson  Muir- 
head  more  than  one  of  their  Staffordshire 
neighbours  declared  on  their  conscience  that 
they  felt  quite  queer  and  even  shivered  on  first 
seeing  a  certain  brass  plate  with  the  name  of 
"Mr.  Sampson  Muirhead,  Agent  for  the  Mer- 
ton .  Insurance  Company, "  on  a  door  in  the 
High  Street  of  Newcastle-under-Lyme.  Yet 
'twas  quite  a  modest  little  plate  marking  two 
modest  little  first-floor  rooms,  nearly  opposite 
40 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  41 

to  the  town-hall,  where  on  police-court  days 
you  might  see  the  prisoners  being  brought  in 
and  out  by  staid  policemen,  and  next  door  to 
the  shop  of  Mr.  Briggs,  unto  whom  resort  all  the 
rank  and  fashion  of  North  Staffordshire  when 
they  require  dresses,  ribbons,  laces,  and  other 
matters  of  adornment  and  use.  Upstairs  there 
was  even  less  cause  for  shivering.  In  the  outer 
room  sat  Gerald  with  a  ledger  or  two  in  front 
of  him  "and  a  pen  in  his  hand:  in  the  inner 
room  sat  Muirhead  writing  letters;  two  more 
guileless  persons  you  could  not  wish  to  see. 
Business  came  in  slowly  but  steadily,  policies 
multiplied,  commissions  swelled,  another  clerk 
was  engaged,  before  a  year  was  over  the  High 
Street  office  was  too  small  for  Muirhead 's 
work.  He  and  his  young  partner  sat  together 
in  the  outer  room  one  morning  before  business 
hours  discussing  a  move  into  larger  premises, 
and  debating  whether  they  were  justified  in 
recommending  the  Company  to  take  a  whole 
house  and  engage  two  more  clerks  and  can- 
vassers. It  was  a  certain  Wednesday  morning, 
Gerald's  sixteenth  birthday — how  well  he 
remembered  it  in  after  years! — and  he  had 
promised  to  go  home  for  the  afternoon;  not 
that  he  had  much  feeling  about  birthdays  him- 
self but  that  Miss  Bertram  and  Monica  had 
made  a  great  appeal  for  the  half-holiday  and 


42  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

Muirhead,  for  his  own  purposes,  had  insisted 
on  according  it.  At  nine  o'clock  the  second 
clerk  arrived,  a  young  man  five  years  older  than 
Gerald  in  years  and  about  fifty  years  younger 
in  most  other  respects.  The  youth,  Nicholson 
by  name,  hung  up  his  coat  and  hat  and  came 
to  the  fire  to  warm  his  hands,  for  it  was  snow- 
ing slightly,  an  east  wind  was  blowing  cuttingly 
and  other  genial  signs  of  an  English  spring 
were  to  be  seen  and  felt  outside.  Gerald 
saluted  the  new-comer  with  a  grave  good- 
morning,  Muirhead  gave  him  a  nod  and  went 
on  talking,  while  Nicholson,  after  leaning  over 
the  fire  for  a  moment,  went  up  to  his  desk  and 
stood  looking  down  on  it  as  if  he  were  a  swim- 
mer about  to  plunge  boldly  into  a  sea  of  figures. 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  in 
response  to  Muirhead's  "come  in"  there 
entered  a  man  of  middle  height,  with  short 
black  beard,  moustache  and  whiskers,  and  hair 
of  the  dull  shadowless  black  which  suggests 
hair-dye  not  very  skilfully  applied.  His  face 
was  so  overpowered  by  this  black  framework 
that  no  man  after  talking  to  Mr.  Joshua  Mar- 
shall for  an  hour  could  tell  you  whether  his 
nose  was  straight  or  crooked,  whether  his  eyes 
were  blue  or  green,  honest  or  shifty ;  they  only 
knew  that  he  was  very  black. 

"Mr.  Muirhead?"  said  the  new-comer  inter- 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  43 

relatively.  It  was  curious  that  though  there 
could  hardly  be  much  mistake  as  to  which  was 
the  elder  man  of  the  two,  Marshall  turned 
first  to  Gerald,  as  if  recognising  something  of 
the  leader  in  the  lad's  face,  but  he  was  quick 
to  see  his  mistake. 

' '  I  have  come  down  from  London  to  speak  to 
you  about  a  new  building  society  for  which  we 
want  agents  in  this  part  of  the  world.  May  I 
speak  to  you  privately?" 

Muirhead  led  the  way  into  the  inner  room 
and  Gerald  and  the  stranger  followed,  the 
latter  seeming  to  take  for  granted  that  the  boy 
would  come  too.  Marshall  explained  to  them 
that  several  small  building  societies  in  different 
parts  of  England  had  recently  amalgamated 
into  one  big  society  which  had  established 
some  headquarters  in  London  and  proposed  to 
extend  itself  all  over  England.  They  wanted 
help  of  two  kinds;  first  some  local  clergy, 
schoolmasters  and  such  like  people  who  could 
influence  money,  but  in  their  own  unbusiness- 
like fashion ;  secondly,  some  smart  business 
men  to  reduce  the  proceedings  of  these  miscel- 
laneous canvassers  to  order.  The  pay  for  this 
latter  work  would  be  good.  Would  Muirhead 
and  Franklin  undertake  it? 

The  matter  was  discussed  at  length,  and 
finally  the  partners  agreed  to  Marshall's  pro- 


44  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

posals.  The  man  himself  filled  them  with 
respect,  especially  Gerald,  who  was  making  his 
first  acquaintance  with  London  city  smartness. 
Marshall  seemed  to  know  everybody  in  their 
neighbourhood,  his  or  her  income,  prospects 
and  capacities.  He  knew  ten  times  more 
about  the  Merton  Insurance  Company  as  a 
whole  than  they  did  themselves,  and  quite  as 
much  as  they  did  about  the  Staffordshire 
branch  of  it.  His  explanation  of  the  work 
required  by  his  own  society  was  a  model  of 
clearness,  and  though  he  held  papers  in  his 
hand,  he  rarely  looked  at  them,  whether  men- 
tioning sums  of  thousands  of  pounds  or 
explaining  how  fifteen  shillings  could  be  saved 
by  drawing  up  building  contracts  in  one  way 
rather  than  another.  Gerald  looked  on  in 
ever-growing  admiration,  and  Marshall  on  his 
side  seemed  almost  as  much  impressed  by  the 
boy,  and  spoke  to  him  instead  of  to  Muirhead 
with  increasing  frequency.  Indeed  it  was  the 
boy  who  decided  the  matter  at  last,  agreeing  to 
Marshall's  proposals  and  finally  inviting  Mar- 
shall to  come  and  dine  with  himself  and  his 
family.  The  visitor  knew  Miss  Bertram's 
name,  apparently,  as  he  did  that  of  everybody 
in  the  district  with  money  to  invest,  and 
accepted  the  invitation,  for  which  indeed  it 
might  have  struck  some  persons  that  he  had 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  45 

been  angling,  so  that  at  one  o'clock  the  three 
men  walked  down  to  Hartshill  chatting  amiably 
as  they  went. 

Two  of  them  were  expected,  and  Miss  Ber- 
tram, on  being  told  privately  by  Gerald  of  the 
business  on  which  the  stranger  had  come,  did 
her  best  to  make  him  welcome.  She  had  an 
acute  suspicion  and  mistrust  of  all  these  finan- 
cial folk  with  sharp  eyes  and  incomprehensible 
talk  who  were  collecting  round  her  young  kins- 
man, but  she  was  obliged  to  think  that  it  was 
all  right.  Gerald,  at  any  rate,  seemed  to  be 
prospering,  to  be  keeping  regular  hours  and 
decent  company  and  earning  good  money. 
Certainly  she  ought  to  be  content — and  even 
more,  for  the  lad  came  to  church  with  them  on 
Sunday  morning  and  evening,  talked  respect- 
fully enough  to  his  elders,  had  agreed  readily 
to  be  confirmed  when  Mr.  Lowe  asked  him, 
and  even  went  to  three  or  four  of  the  Vicar's 
classes  before  that  event,  and  conducted  him- 
self, when  there,  with  perfect  propriety.  Miss 
Bertram  professed  satisfaction  with  her  lips, 
and,  if  she  did  not  feel  it,  could  not  have  told 
even  herself  why.  One  has  a  vague  idea 
about  certain  things  and  people  which  can  only 
be  summed  up  in  the  words  that  they  are  too 
good  to  be  true,  and,  if  Miss  Bertram  had  put 
into  words  her  exact  feeling  about  Gerald,  she 


46  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

would  have  used  some  such  expression.  For 
Muirhead  she  had  a  more  pronounced  dislike 
and  mistrust;  though  hardly  seeing  how  to 
prevent  them,  she  objected  to  his  visits  here, 
especially  now  that  Monica  was  growing  up, 
and  she  could  see — or  thought  that  she  could 
see — his  eyes  already  resting  with  pleasure  on 
the  fair  young  face  of  her  ward. 

Monica  Franklin,  at  the  age  of  seventeen, 
had  the  grave  sober  look  common  to  children 
who  have  lived  alone  with  an  elder  for  many 
years.  Her  hair  was  done  up,  her  dresses  were 
long  and  a  little  old-fashioned,  but  the  quaint 
seriousness  of  dress  and  manner  seemed  to 
suit  marvellously  well  with  the  grave,  beautiful 
young  face  of  the  child.  Withal,  she  was  not 
always  to  all  men  a  very  pleasant  companion. 
While  you  were  admiring  the  steady  grey  eyes, 
you  became  conscious  that  they  were  looking 
through  you,  judging  and  condemning  what 
they  saw.  As  you  watched  the  soft,  mobile 
mouth  with  its  red  lips,  it  suddenly  opened 
and  asked  an  awkward  question,  or  spoke  some 
quiet,  half-conscious  disapproval  of  what  you 
were  saying.  With  very  few  people  did  Monica 
drop  her  reserve  and  coldly  judicial  attitude; 
certainly  not  with  her  brother  or  his  friends. 
Gerald  talked  freely  to  her  about  his  likes  and 
dislikes,  his  plans,  hopes,  judgments,  and  work; 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  47 

he  had  made  no  concealment  of  them  from  her 
in  the  past,  and,  finding-  it  difficult  to  begin  to 
do  so,  he  continued  his  revelations,  which 
squared  so  little  with  any  of  Monica's  prin- 
ciples and  ideals  that  she  began  after  a  time  to 
merely  study  her  brother  and  his  friends  as 
types  of  humanity — and  very  unpleasing  types 
she  thought  them.  To-day,  when  she  came 
into  the  room,  it  was  with  the  intention  of 
keeping  perfectly  quiet  and  leaving  all  the  con- 
versation to  her  aunt  and  Muirhead.  But  her 
intention  received  a  curious  check. 


CHAPTER  VI 

White,  nervous  and  silent,  with  restless 
hands  and  trembling  lips,  staring  blankly  alike 
at  Monica  when  she  came  in  to  speak  to  Muir- 
head,  and  at  the  servant  who  came  in  to 
announce  the  mid-day  dinner — what  was  the 
matter  with  Miss  Christina  Bertram?  She  had 
been  introduced  to  Marshall,  had  sat  down 
opposite  to  him  and  talked  to  him  in  her  usual 
quiet,  reserved  manner  for  a  minute  or  two, 
and  then  her  face  had  slowly  frozen,  and  her 
eyes  dilated  with  bewilderment  and  fear.  He 
sat  opposite  to  her  talking  easily  about  the 
neighbourhood,  which  he  seemed  to  have 
visited  before,  and  to  know  slightly  apart  from 
business  matters;  and  if  he  looked  a  trifle 
whiter  than  usual,  well,  no  one  who  knew  him 
was  perhaps  present  to  notice  it.  He  glanced 
admiringly  at  Monica  as  she  came  in,  and 
flashed  an  amused  look  at  Muirhead,  who 
started  up  in  eager  greeting.  At  dinner  he 
talked  fluently — rather  too  much  so,  praising 
everything  in  a  slightly  condescending  fashion. 

"English  meat  is  so  good,  "he  began  once, 
48 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  49 

"I  have  passed  much  of  my  time  in  Southern 
Europe,  where  everything  is  so  nasty  that  I 
am  greedy  over  English  meals.  I  spent  a 
month  once  in  an  inn  kept  by  Italians;  the  only 
servants  were  the  son  and  daughter  of  the 
landlady.  The  son  waited  on  us; — a  very 
handsome  young  man  he  was,  I  assure  you, 
Miss  Franklin; — his  name  was  Orestes,  and 
after  dinner  he  played  the  mandolin  in  the 
garden.  The  girl  was  very  good-looking,  and 
a  great  friend  of  mine — very  great.  I  should 
hardly  like  to  tell  you  all  that  passed  between 
us,  Miss  Franklin,  I  assure  you."  He  laughed 
across  at  the  girl  with  bold,  coarse  eyes,  and 
she  coloured  angrily.  "Then  our  peace  was 
disturbed  by  the  arrival  of  some  more  visitors 
for  whom  a  chef  had  to  be  engaged.  The  chef 
quarrelled  with  Orestes,  and  as  he  kept  a  knife 
in  his  belt  and  a  revolver  in  his  pocket,  we 
feared  every  day  that  we  should  be  left  without 
a  waiter.  If  I  begged  Orestes  to  get  me  some 
food  he  would  be  sure  to  come  back  saying  that 
it  was  cooked  and  ready,  but  that  he  dare  not 
get  it  because  the  chef  was  guarding  it  with  his 
pistols  loaded  and  cocked,  and  his  knife  sharp- 
ened in  his  hand." 

"How  very  Italian!"  laughed  Muirhead. 
"You  said  it  was  in  Italy,  didn't  you?" 

"It  was  in  Southern  Europe,"  said  Marshall 


SO  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

curtly.       "The    people     were     Italians,    yes. 
Have  you  ever  been  abroad,  Miss  Franklin?" 

It  was  odd  that  the  man  never  addressed 
himself  to  Miss  Bertram,  always  to  Monica. 
As  the  girl  shook  her  head  he  went  on  talking 
to  her  with  the  expansive  smile  and  voice 
growing  continually  louder  of  a  man  who 
thinks  that  he  is  the  object  of  every  one's 
admiration. 

"I  know  most  of  the  world  pretty  well,"  he 
said.  "My  friends  tell  me  that  I  have  been 
into  every  country  in  the  world,  and  brought 
away  a  little  additional  wickedness  from  each 
of  them.  Friends  say  these  kind  things  to  us, 
Miss  Franklin!  At  any  rate  I  know  the  four 
continents  well;  or  are  there  five,  Miss  Frank- 
lin? I  am  always  willing  to  receive  corrections 
from  you.  I  shall  write  my  adventures  one 
day.  All  the  books  of  travel  which  I  have 
ever  read  are  the  most  shocking  nonsense ;  one 
closes  the  book  and  one's  left  eye  together.  I 
remember  somewhere  or  other  in  some  part  of 
Europe  where  I  was  once  in  my  youth  there 
was  a  man  who  used  to  tell  travel  stories  and 
to  write  them  too.  Every  one  hung  on  his 
words,  and  no  one  paid  any  attention  to  me. 
He  was  the  idol  of  the  neighbourhood,  you 
understand,  and  I  was  the  idler,  ha,  ha!  You 
must  excuse  my  little  jokes,  Miss  Franklin; 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  51 

but  one  day  he  began  to  tell  .  .  .  Can  I 
help  you,  Miss  Franklin?  Is  your  aunt  ill?" 

Miss  Bertram's  face  had  turned  to  such  an 
ashen  grey  during  the  progress  of  this  narrative 
that  Monica  jumped  up  and  ran  round  to  the 
head  of  the  table,  asking  whether  she  should 
get  some  brandy  or  sal-volatile.  But  by  an 
immense  effort  the  woman  recovered  speech 
and  movement;  with  forced  calm  she  made 
some  small  excuse  for  her  attack  and  went  on 
playing  with  the  food  on  her  plate.  Marshall 
did  not  resume  his  story,  but /sat  silent  for 
nearly  a  minute  with  the  vexed /puzzled  look  of 
a  man  who  knows  that  he  has  been  guilty  of 
some  indiscretion,  but  cannot  settle  exactly 
what  it  is.  A  little  talk  went  on  between 
Monica,  Muirhead  and  Gerald,  during  the 
interval;  then  Marshall's  loud  voice  began 
again,  and  put  a  stop  to  all  further  conversa- 
tion by  keeping  all  the  task  to  itself. 

Shortly  after  dinner  Nicholson  arrived  with 
his  sister. 

"We  are  at  a  birthday  party.  It  is  Gerald 
Franklin's  sixteenth  birthday,"  said  Muirhead 
to  Marshall,  and  the  latter's  stare  of  surprise 
amused  his  companion. 

"Sixteen!"  muttered  the  Londoner.  "Six- 
teen! Oh,  Lord!  Yes,  we  want  that  young 
man  for  our  work.  Decidedly  we  want  him." 


52  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

The  afternoon  dragged  by  a  little  heavily. 
Marshall's  booming  voice  got  on  every  one's 
nerves,  and  all  the  inmates  of  the  little  draw- 
ing-room except  one  were  wondering  why  he 
did  not  go.  Presently  it  appeared  that  he 
wanted  to  catch  the  6 :  30  train  from  Stoke  to 
London,  and  Muirhead  explained  the  way  to 
the  station  with  elaborate  plans.  "You  can 
see  the  whole  road  from  the  dining-room 
window,"  said  Miss  Bertram,  suddenly  rising 
from  her  chair  and  leading  the  way  into  the 
dining-room.  Marshall  followed  and  the  two 
stood  by  the  window  looking  down  on  to  Stoke. 
Then  without  looking  round  or  moving,  and  in 
a  scared  shaking  voice,  Miss  Bertram  asked 
abruptly : — 

"What  are  you  doing  here?  Why  have  you 
come  back?" 


CHAPTER  VII 

A  great  friend  of  mine  who  had  gained  a 
precarious  livelihood  between  the  ages  of 
twenty  and  forty  by  stealing  horses  in  Texas, 
"holding  up"  stage-coaches  in  California,  rob- 
bing gold-convoys  in  West  Australia,  slave- 
dealing  and  illicit-diamond-buying  in  Africa, 
piracy  on  the  high  seas,  and  other  methods  on 
which  Society  has  placed  its  irrational  ban, 
told  me  once  that  nothing  in  his  career  had  ever 
irritated  him  more  than  the  discovery  of  those 
varied  and  artistic  disguises  which  circum- 
stances (and  by  circumstances  he  of  course 
meant  the  police)  forced  him  to  adopt.  He 
was  not  clever  at  disguising  himself;  it  was  the 
weak  point  in  his  otherwise  admirable  intelli- 
gence ;  but  to  the  end  of  his  life  (which  regret- 
table event  took  place  on  a  gallows  in  Sydney, 
New  South  Wales)  he  could  never  be  convinced 
of  this  fact,  and  not  only  would  he  recount  to 
me  with  genuine  amazement  and  vexation  how 
the  police  found  him  out  again  and  again,  but  on 
one  occasion  when  I  met  him  in  the  streets  of 
Buenos  Ayres  disguised  as  an  Argentine  police- 

53 


54  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

man  (certainly  his  most  brilliant  effort  of  imag- 
ination), and  went  up  to  him  with  a  delighted, 
"My  dear  C ,  how  are  you?"  the  proceed- 
ing on  my  part  nearly  cost  me  his  friendship. 
"Take  my  word  for  it,"  he  said,  frowning  and 
working  his  mouth  about  so  that  his  wig  got 
away  and  one  of  his  whiskers  fell  off;  "take 
my  word  for  it  you  can't  annoy  a  man  in  my 
position  more  than  by  recognising  him  even  if 
you  are  his  friend,  and  it  is  done  in  private. 
Not  only  does  he  realise  that  much  time  and 
money  have  been  wasted,  but  fancy  the  fool 
that  he  feels  walking  about  with  his  discoverer 
in  the  outrageous  clothes  and  false  hair,  and 
high  heels  and  false  stomach,  which  his  friend 
has  seen  through  and  is  laughing  at!" 

Mr.  Marshall's  annoyance  at  being  recog- 
nised by  his  sister  was  a  reproduction  of  the 
complex  feelings  so  eloquently  described  by 

poor  C .  He  looked  at  her  first  in  angry 

astonishment,  then  with  a  semblance  of  polite 
amazement  as  if  minded  to  deny  that  he  was 
her  brother,  the  ex-secretary  of  the  North 
Staffordshire  Infirmary;  then  evidently  giving 
up  this  idea  as  a  bad  job  he  looked  out  of  the 
window  with  sullen  wrath  in  his  eyes  and  a 
very  miserable  skeleton  of  a  smile  on  the  rest 
of  his  face. 

"I  have    been    trying  all   afternoon    for    a 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  55 

chance  to  see  you  alone  and  tell  you  who  I 
am,"  he  said,  wondering  whether  the  woman 
believed  him,  and  very  easily  perceiving  that 
she  did  not. 

"What  are  you  doing  here?"  she  insisted. 
"Why  have  you  come  back?" 

"I  wanted  to  make  some  money,"  he  said  at 
last;  "and  one  can  only  do  that  in  England. 
Are  you  so  very  unhappy  at  seeing  me  again?" 
he  added  sentimentally. 

The  woman  turned  and  looked  full  at  him 
for  the  first  time  since  she  had  sat  opposite  to 
him  before  lunch  and  realised  who  he  was. 
She  studied  the  white,  slightly-puffed  cheeks; 
the  coarse,  bold  eyes;  the  profusion  of  black 
hair,  curled  and  oiled  and  scented.  The  fel- 
low looked  like  a  prosperous  provincial  money- 
lender. Miss  Christina  shuddered  slightly  and 
turned  away.  Above  all  the  other  thoughts 
caused  by  this  return — above  the  certainty  that 
Marshall  was  living  dishonestly,  that  he  would 
worry  her  by  demanding  her  money,  making 
friends  with  Monica  and  influencing  Gerald, 
and  would  generally  make  her  life  in  Stafford- 
shire intolerable — rose  a  feeling  of  pure  per- 
sonal dislike  for  the  man  himself.  Her  brother 
had  filled  her  with  anxiety  all, his  life;  now  he 
disgusted  her. 

Marshall  thought  that  she  was  overpowered 


56  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

by  emotion  and  threw  more  pathos  into  his 
face  and  voice,  which  looked  and  sounded  like 
those  of  a  melodramatic  actor  playing  the  per- 
secuted curate  in  a  small  country  theatre. 

"It  has  saddened  me,"  he  went  on,  "to  come 
back  to  these  scenes  of  my  youth,  and  to  think 
that  I  shall  never  be  able  to  visit  them  again 
under  my  own  name.  At  least  I  suppose  not. 
Did  they — tell  me,  Chris,"  he  dropped  his 
voice  still  lower  and  moved  nearer  to  her,  "did 
they  issue  a  warrant  against  me  directly  I  had 
gone  off?  Are  they  still  looking  for  me,  eh? 
I  haven't  liked  to  make  any  inquiries." 

Miss  Bertram  stood  silent.  In  a  second  it 
flashed  across  her  how  easy  it  would  be  to 
keep  the  man  in  check  by  fear  of  arrest  if  he 
thought  that  a  warrant  had  been  issued  for  his 
apprehension  and  was  still  out.  Gerald's 
future,  Monica's  happiness,  her  own  peace, 
might  depend  on  her  having  some  hold  over 
him.  She  could  not  lie  about  it,  but  answered 
coldly : — 

"I  suppose  a  warrant  holds  good  until  you 
are  caught,  however  long  a  time  it  may  be 
afterwards.  Are  you  staying  on  in  England?" 

"Yes,  I  am  quite  safe.  Smart  chap  that 
youngster  of  yours.  And  his  sister  is  a  very 
pretty  girl,  too.  Where  did  they  come  from, 
and  what  are  they  doing  here?" 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  57 

"As  you  will  never  see  or  speak  to  either  of 
them  again  after  to-day,  I  do  not  think  that  I 
need  tell  you  their  story." 

The  fellow  looked  at  her,  stroking  his  black 
whiskers  and  considering.  He  did  not  mean 
to  defy  her,  partly  because  he  anticipated 
wanting  her  money,  partly  because  he  was  not 
quite  sure  how  far  she  would  go  in  defence  of 
her  young  charges.  She  was  clearly  very  fond 
of  them.  Equally  clearly,  he  regretted  to 
notice,  she  was  not  at  all  fond  of  him,  and  had 
no  sentimental  recollection  of  the  days  when 
they  were  young  and  played  (or,  as  he  would 
have  preferred  to  call  it  in  his  present  mood, 
sported)  together,  and  were  whipped  one  after 
another  for  playing  truant  from  school,  and 
were  sent  to  bed  equally  hungry  in  adjoin- 
ing bedrooms.  So  Marshall  answered  her 
mildly: — 

"Of  course  not;   of  course  not;  just  as  you 

will.      I  might    have  helped  the  boy,   but  it 

shall   be  as  you  please.      And  for  his    sister 

she  is  really  a  very  pretty  girl.     How 

old  is  she?     Twenty,  perhaps?" 

"She  is  seventeen,"  said  Miss  Bertram, 
stiffly,  "and  the  boy  is  sixteen.  He  could  be 
no  possible  use  to  you  in  any  business.  He  is 
a  mere  boy,  just  out  of  school,  and  knows 
nothing  of  any  money-matters,  though,  of 


58  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

course,  Mr.   Muirhead  is  teaching  him  some- 
thing." 

"Muirhead  teach  that  youth  .  .  .  !" 
muttered  Marshall  with  a  laugh.  "What  he 
doesn't  know  about  money-matters  isn't  worth 
knowing.  Muirhead  couldn't  teach  him 
much.  He's  forgotten  more  than  Muirhead 
ever  knew.  Gerald  Franklin  .  .  .  that 
would  be  a  son  of  that  head  clerk  in  the  rail- 
way office,  I  suppose?" 

"Yes,"  said  Miss  Bertram  unwillingly. 

"I  think  I  remember  him.  And  Monica 
.  .  .  Monica  .  .  ."  The  man  dwelt  on 
the  name  with  a  slight  smile  on  his  lips,  and 
Miss  Christina  glanced  at  him  in  angry  amaze- 
ment. At  last  he  turned  abruptly  away  and 
went  into  the  next  room. 

"I  must  catch  the  6:30  from  Stoke,"  he  was 
saying  when  she  followed  him  in,  "and  must 
go  •  at  once.  Good-bye,  Miss  Franklin.  I 
shall  be  indeed  vexed  if  I  cannot  find  an  excuse 
to  come  here  again  soon,  and  call  on  your  aunt 
and  you.  Good-bye,  Mr.  Franklin.  You  will 
hear  from  us  in  London  very  soon.  You  are 
coming  part  of  the  way  to  the  station  with  me, 
Mr.  Muirhead?  That  is  very  good  of  you. 
Thank  you.  Good-bye,  Miss  Bertram."  The 
man  looked  at  her  with  much  show  of  depre- 
catory humility,  but  she  shook  her  head  wrath- 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  59 

fully,  and  when  they  were  close  together  for  a 
moment  near  the  front  door,  she  muttered  to 
him:  "You  will  not  come  here  again  .  .  . 
never,  or  you  know  the  consequences!"  He 
looked  at  her  with  a  smile,  gently  and  humbly 
defiant,  and  departed. 

The  swagger  and  bravado  left  Marshall  as  he 
turned  with  his  companion  out  of  the  gate  and 
walked  along  the  crest  of  the  hill.  He  hardly 
heard  Muirhead's  remarks,  and  answered  at 
random,  looking  down  the  while,  with  scoffings 
at  his  own  sentiment,  but  with  eyes  full  of 
regret  and  pain  and  half-formed  impotent 
remorse,  over  the  home-scene  in  the  sunset- 
tinted  valley  below.  Which  of  us  can  quite 
kill  the  delicate  far-reaching  fibres  of  that  love 
for  scenes  with  which  our  youth  has  been 
bound  up  for  long,  happy  years — our  youth — 
that  white  dawn  which  vice,  and  folly,  and  pas- 
sion, have  at  worst  as  yet  only  smirched  for  a 
few  moments?  The  faith  in  God,  in  His  for- 
giveness, and  help  and  love,  in  the  possibility 
of  a  new  life  beginning  daily,  with  courage  and 
hope  for  its  ministers  and  Heaven  for  its  end : 
how  many  men  have  lost  these  through  long, 
wandering  years  to  find  them  again  in  some 
wet,  scented  woods,  spring-tinted  and  silent, 
where  years  ago  they  used  to  go  a-maying  with 
the  friends  whom  they  have  now  defrauded  or 


60  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

forgotten,  and  picked  white  boughs  of  cherry- 
blossom  for  a  small  sister  who  was  too  small  to 
reach  them?  How  many?  .  .  .  and  some, 
after  the  finding,  have  struggled  back  through 
repentance  and  restitution,  through  tears  and 
retribution,  and  borne  the  burden  of  their 
years  to  the  light;  while  others  have  sighed 
and  enjoyed  for  a  spell  this  new  subtle  pain 
of  memory,  and  stretched  out  feeble  hands 
towards  the  lost  innocence ;  and  so  come  back 
to  the  life  of  the  moment,  to  an  express  to 
London,  a  city  office,  a  money-getting  or 
pleasure-hunting  machine,  which  must  go  for- 
ward at  all  costs. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

There  is  more  reality,  more  intense  emotion, 
a  keener  pleasure  and  a  bitterer  pain  in  the 
backwaters  of  life  than  in  its  main  stream. 
Hurry,  noise,  money-getting,  the  type-writer 
and  the  electric  light,  are  not  real  life. 

On  the  main  stream  of  the  Amazons  you  fly 
by  on  fast  steamers,  you  pass  boats  bringing 
turtles  from  Ega,  timber  from  the  Madeira 
forests,  india-rubber  from  all  parts  to  Para. 
You  stop  at  Macapa,  Santarem,  Barra,  Manaos; 
drive  bargains  in  india-rubber;  exchange 
remedies  for  mosquito-bites;  and  then  hurry 
along  as  you  voyage  to  St.  Paolo.  The  river  is 
wide,  busy,  ugly :  you  do  not  stop  to  think,  but 
hurry  on. 

But  on  the  backwaters  of  the  Amazons  you 
rest  and  think,  and  feel  your  own  emotions, 
recognising  the  true  value  of  everything.  Sit- 
ting under  a  tree,  200  feet  high  and  50  feet  in 
girth  and  1000  years  old,  in  a  forest  3000  miles 
long  and  500  miles  across,  you  see  what  it 
really  means  to  be  5  feet  10  inches  in  height, 
and  to  live  for  four  score  years.  All  around 


62  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

you  Nature  is  free  to  develop  herself.  The 
forest  glades  are  a  vast  fernery ;  orchids  and 
lianas  hang  from  the  great  assai  palms ;  scarlet 
and  green  tanagers,  red  and  yellow  macaws, 
bright-coloured  butterflies,  flit  to  and  fro; 
down  the  slow-moving  stream  floats  a  great 
boa-constrictor  curled  round  the  branch  of  a 
tree,  which  he  steers  with  his  tail.  Big 
pumice-stones  which  have  been  made  round  as 
balls  by  being  washed  about  in  the  shallow 
streams  at  the  foot  of  the  Andes  volcanoes 
drift  ashore,  bearing  eggs  and  seeds  of  insects 
and  plants  from  1200  miles  away  which  are 
seized  upon  and  propagated  in  a  thousand 
variations  by  the  insects  and  plants  round  you. 
And  sitting  in  the  midst  of  this  rioting  nature 
you  see  that  you  are  a  small,  not  so  very 
important  part  of  it  all.  You  can,  it  is  true, 
pick  the  orchids,  catch  or  shoot  the  parrots, 
and  trample  over  the  ferns;  but,  man  alive! 
what  happens  to  you  if  you  pass  under  a 
branch  from  which  a  snake  is  hanging  looking 
out  for  something  to  eat?  And  did  seeds 
travel  1000  miles  to  unite  with  others  in  pro- 
ducing you?  You  are  not  so  very  wonderful 
after  all.  .  .  .  The  truths  and  realities  of 
life  are  only  seen  in  life's  backwaters. 

There  was  a  backwater  at  Hartshill  on  the 
banks  of  which  Mr.  Reginald  Nicholson,  clerk 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  63 

to  Messrs.  Muirhead  &  Franklin,  wandered, 
and  saw  clearly  that  money-making  was  so 
small  a  part  of  life  as  hardly  to  be  worth  call- 
ing life  at  all,  and  that  love  mattered  every- 
thing. Anon  he  meditated  on  this  discovery 
alone,  and  anon  he  told  the  story  of  his  love  to 
an  audience  of  one.  I  do  not  mean  to  suggest 
that  he  ever  said  to  Monica  in  words,  "I  love 
you,  please  marry  me,"  for  this,  as  he  well 
knew,  would  have  been  the  signal  for  his 
immediate  ejection  from  the  house  by  Monica's 
aunt ;  but  he  said  it  in  a  thousand  other  ways. 
Indeed,  when  eyes  and  mute  lips  can  tell  tales 
so  much  more  clearly  than  words,  it  hath 
always  seemed  to  me  remarkable  that  parents 
and  guardians  should  attach  so  much  impor- 
tance to  the  escape  of  such  second-rate  mes- 
sengers. "Will  yon  give  me  your  word,  if  I 
let  you  remain  here,  not  to  speak  to  my 
daughter  about  this  for  another  two  years?" 
Oh,  foolish  father!  to  think  such  a  pledge 
when  given  worth  twopence ;  when  the  young 
man  that  very  morning  will  look  such  love  and 
hopes  into  his  mistress'  eyes  as  no  words  or 
kisses,  or  a  diamond  engagement-ring  itself 
could  tell  of! 

Nicholson  was  the  eldest  son  of  a  pottery 
manufacturer  in  Stoke  who,  having  a  great 
admiration  for  Muirhead,  had  sent  his  son  to 


64  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

him  to  be  taught  book-keeping  and  other  such 
business  matters  as  might  be  picked  up  in  the 
branch  of  a  big  insurance  office.  He  did  cer- 
tain work  for  Muirhead  in  return  for  this 
instruction,  coming  into  Newcastle  every  morn- 
ing at  nine,  and  returning  to  his  home  just 
outside  Stoke  (when  he  could  find  no  excuse 
for  going  to  Hartshill,  which  was  not  often)  at 
six.  He  was  a  happy-minded,  easy-going 
youngster,  well  educated,  contented  with  life 
(except  when  Monica  was  angry),  unsuspicious, 
and  clean  in  mind  and  body.  His  years  num- 
bered twenty-one,  and  he  loved  Monica  Frank- 
lin with  the  single-hearted  unselfishness  and 
purity  which  you  may  see  sometimes  in  lovers 
of  his  age.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  he  would 
have  given  her  up  to  some  one  else  if  he  saw 
that  she  preferred  his  rival,  or  that  he  would 
not  have  sulked  for  an  afternoon  if  she  had 
permitted  some  audacious  pretender  to  button 
her  glove  or  give  her  a  new  carnation  for  her 
garden;  Nicholson  would  on  the  contrary  have 
cuffed  the  head  of  such  a  man,  or  cheerfully 
helped  to  do  him  any  reasonable  injury;  but 
when  Monica  wanted  something  which  did  not 
square  with  Nicholson's  recreations  or  pleasure 
or  happiness,  the  something  in  question  was 
always  given  to  her.  The  girl  watched  her 
admirer  with  a  little  bewilderment  (for  he  was 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  65 

her  first  lover),  a  little  wonder  and  doubt, 
sometimes  with  a  touch  of  amusement,  and  just 
now  and  again  with  a  little  inclination  to  return 
his  love.  It  is  only  in  the  back-waters,  you 
know,  that  two  lives  like  these  can  be  noticed 
drifting  down  stream  and  coming  nearer  and 
nearer  together  as  they  sweep  along.  I  do  not 
know  that  their  story — it  is  so  old! — is  really 
very  interesting.  It  is  stale  rather,  is  it  not, 
this  history  of  young  love,  this  book  of  inno- 
cence written  in  white  on  white?  But  we  will 
get  back  soon  to  the  main  stream.  After  all, 
however  much  more  interesting  and  real  the 
tranquillity  of  the  back-water  may  be  to  the 
philosopher,  one  must  have  hurry  and  noise  in 
a  story. 

The  little  house  in  Hartshill  had  a  garden, 
and  the  garden  had  a  summer-house,  built  by 
some  friendly  architect  who  knew  that  people 
occasionally  had  something  to  say  which 
entailed  sitting  close  together,  touching  one 
another's  hands,  and  other  proceedings  which 
cannot  be  carried  on  in  view  of  drawing-room 
windows.  On  a  bench  in  this  summer-house 
sat  Reggie  Nicholson  and  Monica  watching  the 
friendly  April  sun  which  had  come  out  for  a 
few  moments  before  he  went  to  bed,  to  dry  up 
the  rain  and  warm  the  damp  air. 

"Who  is  this  man  Marshall,  Mr.  Nicholson?" 


66  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

They  had  not  reached  the  stage  of  Christian 
names  yet,  even  in  the  summer-house,  though 
now  and  then  Reggie  slipped  out  a  "Monica," 
and  pretended  to  look  very  much  annoyed  by 
his  mistake. 

"He  came  down  from  London  this  morn- 
ing," answered  the  young  man.  "I  don't 
know  what  about.  Miss  Bertram  didn't  seem 
to  take  to  him  exactly." 

"He  was  detestable,"  said  Monica,  which 
settled  the  estimate  of  Marshall  for  both  of 
them. 

"Yet  you  talked  to  him  all  afternoon,"  said 
Nicholson,  relieved  to  find  that  his  lady-love 
had  not  returned  Marshall's  too  evident  admira- 
tion, yet  willing  to  air  his  grievance  in  case  she 
should  think  it  one  worthy  of  compensation. 

"You  mean  he  talked  to  me,"  said  Monica 
with  a  laugh.  "I  would  have  been  just  thank- 
ful to  any  one  who  had  saved  me.  I  looked 
across  at  you  and  your  sister  a  dozen  times 
wishing  you  would  come." 

"I  suppose  then  that  Franklin  or  Muirhead 
or  Martha  would  have  done  just  as  well?" 

Martha  was  Miss  Bertram's  housemaid,  and 
Mr.  Nicholson,  you  perceive,  was  in  a  huff 
because  Monica  had  bracketed  him  with  his 
sister  in  her  last  sentence.  Some  people  are 
never  satisfied,  and  you  may  be  sure  that  no 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  67 

one  ever  knew  for  certain  at  what  a  lover 
would  or  would  not  take  offence.  Monica  did 
not  know,  and  sat  for  a  moment  considering 
why  he  spoke  in  this  resentful  voice. 

"I  am  sorry  that  he  is  coming  to  see  Mr. 
Muirhead  and  Gerald  again,"  went  on  the  girl; 
"he  will  do  them  harm:  he  is  not  honest." 

"I  will  keep  your  brother  out  of  his  way  as 
much  as  possible,"  said  the  young  man,  point- 
edly ignoring  her  inclusion  of  Muirhead.  And 
the  extent  of  his  acquaintance  with  his 
employers  may  be  guessed  from  the  fact  that 
he  really  believed  in  his  own  ability  to  do  what 
he  promised.  The  girl  flashed  a  grateful  little 
look  at  him  in  which  was  yet  a  little  wonder  at 
the  resentment  in  his  voice.  She  knew  her 
brother  about  as  well  as  Reggie  did,  and  really 
believed  that  he  was  open  to  such  mild  influ- 
ences as  Nicholson  could  bring  to  bear  on  him. 
Then  she  stood  up  and  wandered  to  the  front 
of  the  summer-house  and  he  stood  as  close  as 
he  dared  to  her  side,  happy  when  a  breath  of 
evening  wind  blew  her  dress  against  him,  and 
to  think  that  he  must  hold  her  hand  in  his — for 
half  a  minute  perhaps  if  he  could  talk  on  and 
make  her  forget — when  he  went.  How  such 
evenings  hang  in  the  memory  when  a  hundred 
great  triumphs  are  forgotten!  You  see,  the 
life  of  the  back-waters,  being  real,  lives  on. 


68  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

It  was  time  to  go,  long  past  it  really,  but 
even  lovers  have  a  parting  hour  which  they 
recognise  as  inevitable.  It  is  controlled  of 
course  by  no  such  trivial  matters  as  the  clock, 
but  mostly  by  sudden  fear  lest  their  mistress 
should  be  getting  tired  of  them.  Such  a  sus- 
picion came  to  Nicholson's  mind  now,  and  he 
rose  to  go. 

"I  am  afraid  your  brother  means  to  have  a 
lot  to  do  with  this  man,"  he  said,  being  in  fact 
afraid  of  nothing  of  the  sort  and  infinitely 
indifferent  to  Marshall's  proceedings,  house 
building  or  insurance,  honest  or  dishonest,' in 
Newcastle;  but  it  was  an  absorbing  topic  to 
Monica,  who  might  therefore  forget  that  her 
hand  was  being  held  all  the  time;  "but  I  will 
never  miss  an  opportunity  of  telling  him  what 
I  think  of  the  fellow.  You  must  do  the  same 
and  we  will  drive  him  out  between  us.  Good- 
bye, Miss  Franklin.  I  see  my  sister  coming 
to  look  for  me.  I  must  go  and  get  the  pony- 
cart  and  take  her  home. " 

The  girl  stood  quite  still  with  her  eyes  on 
the  ground  and  a  soft  flush  like  the  reflection 
of  some  pale  pink  light  on  her  cheeks.  He 
held  her  hand  still,  though  he  could  find  no 
further  words,  could  think  of  nothing  except 
that  he  loved  his  young  companion  and  wanted 
to  tell  her  so,  to  put  his  arm  round  her  and 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  69 

whisper  his  story  of  love.  Then  at  last  she 
took  her  hand  away  and  said  good-bye  in  a 
very  low  voice,  and  stood  still  again  for  a 
moment  as  if  waiting  for  him  to  say  something 
more.  And  as  he  did  not  say  it  they  both 
turned  and  walked  slowly  homewards.  .  .  . 
Such  an  old  stale  story! — as  old  as  the  sunset 
which  was  painting  the  western  clouds  with 
gorgeous  scarlet  and  gold,  as  old  as  the  hills 
which  to-morrow's  sunrise  would  tinge  with 
primrose  and  rose! — as  dull  as  the  little  back- 
water where  only  the  leaves  rustle  and  the 
waters  sweep  past  bending  reeds,  and  the  air 
sings  with  the  rapid  beating  of  birds'  wings! 
Yet  it  is  a  page  in  the  life  of  the  heroine  of  this 
tale  which  must  be  told  if  the  rest  is  to  be 
clear,  and  thus  with  many  apologies  I  offer  it 
to  the  readers  of  Monica's  story. 


CHAPTER    IX 

"No,  sir;  I  am  not  at  all  satisfied  with 
Reginald. ' ' 

The  time  was  about  a  year  after  Marshall's 
first  visit  to  Staffordshire,  and  the  speaker  was 
Reginald  Nicholson's  father,  who  after  the 
manner  of  many  of  his  species  was  holding 
forth  to  a  companion  about  his  son's  misdeeds. 
It  really  never  seems  to  occur  to  persons  of  this 
kind  that  the  knowledge  which  they  obtain 
about  their  offspring  owing  to  circumstances 
(mostly  financial)  over  which  the  offspring 
has  no  control,  is  private.  Most  people  know 
the  story  of  Schopenhauer  sitting  at  dinner 
with  a  party  of  men  friends  round  him  and 
a  twenty-franc  piece  by  the  side  of  his  plate. 
"There  is  a  louis,"  said  the  philosopher, 
"which  I  have  placed  here  every  night  for 
a  month  with  the  intention  of  giving  it  to 
the  poor  when  these  gentlemen  shall  have 
spoken  during  dinner  of  something  else  than 
promotion,  horses,  or  women.  I  still  have  the 
louis."  It  would  be  safe  to  make  the  same 
promise  (though  it  might  be  prudent  to  do  it 
70 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  71 

more  quietly)  with  regard  to  an  average  party 
of  men  at  an  English  club,  if  you  added  to 
your  list  of  subjects  their  son's  school-bills, 
debts,  and  other  iniquities.  This  is  very 
improper  behaviour  on  the  part  of  one's  father. 

Mr.  Nicholson's  companion  was  the  Rev. 
Canon  Hobart,  vicar  of  Stoke-on-Trent,  a 
middle-aged  bachelor  with  a  rich  living,  nine 
curates  (instead  of  the  nine  children  which 
might  have  been  expected  from  his  profession) 
and  a  fund  of  quiet  humour  which  made  his 
parishioners  an  object  of  inexhaustible  joy  to 
himself,  and  himself  an  object  of  unmitigated 
terror  to  his  parishioners. 

"No;  I  am  not  satisfied  with  him,"  repeated 
Nicholson,  senior.  "My  children  are  all  grow- 
ing up  a  bit  cranky.  There  is  Ethel  wanting 
to  ride  a  bicycle ;  to  dress  like  a  man,  Canon ; 
to  wear  what  she  calls  divided  skirts.  I  said  to 
her,  'Take  that  thing  off,  my  dear;  as  a  favour 
to  me  take  it  off,'  I  said.  'I  don't  object  to 
you  trying  to  look  like  a  man,'  I  said.  'It's 
the  kind  of  man  you  succeed  in  looking  like 
now  that  I  object  to,'  I  said.  That's  what  I 
said  to  her.  Then  there's  Reggie.  I  began 
life  at  his  age  in  Josiah  Wedgewood's  works 
with  4s.  a  week,  rising  23.  6d.  every  year  till  I 
had  3  is.  at  the  end  of  my  apprenticeship. 
What  do  I  offer  my  son,  sir?  My  own  pay, 


72  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

which  ought  to  be  good  enough  for  him  if  it 
was  good  enough  for  me?  Not  a  bit  of  it.  I 
said  to  him  :  'Go  and  learn  figuring  with  Muir- 
head  and  then  take  a  choice.'  I  said,  'You  can 
travel  for  us  and  then  have  a  hundred  a  year  at 
once,  and  two  hundred  to  three  hundred  later 
on,'  I  said;  'or  you  can  stay  at  home  and 
begin  with  305.  a  week  and  go  on  till  you  are 
confidential  pricing  clerk  with  ^3  a  week,  and 
cashier  with  ^250  a  year,  and  then  my 
partner.'  That's  what  I  said.  And  what  did 
he  say?  Thank  me  for  giving  him  six  months 
with  a  clever  accountant  and  for  offering  him 
this  chance  of  earning  good  mcne)'  afterwards? 
No,  sir.  He  said  he  was  very  contented  where 
he  was,  that  Muirhead  would  pay  him  a  pound 
a  week,  which  was  quite  enough  for  his  work, 
and  that  he  was  going  to  stay  where  he  was! 
Now  you  know,  Canon,  some  fathers  would 
have  cut  up  rough  at  that,  would  have  said  to 
the  chap,  'See  here,  young  man,  you  go  your 
way  and  I  will  go  mine,  and  I  will  take  care 
that  the  ways  are  different. '  That's  what  my 
father  would  have  done  in  my  place.  But 
that's  not  my  style.  I  said,  'Take  your  own 
way,  lad,  take  your  own  way.  If  it's  honest  I 
won't  stop  you.  You'll  come  to  see  the  folly 
of  it  soon. '  That's  what  I  said.  But  it  vexed 
me,  sir." 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  73 

"He  prefers  to  work  with  that  Muirhead  lot 
at  a  pound  a  week  when  you  offer  him  303. — to 
stay  among  that  gang  of  swindlers  with  less 
pay  and  more  work?  That  is  a  programme  of 
such  an  extremely  objectionable  character  that 
there  must  be  something  more  in  it  than  we 
know.  Is  there,  I  wonder,  a  young  lady  in  the 
case?" 

"No,  sir.  Certainly  not.  .Why,  my  son  is 
only  just  twenty-one !  A  pretty  age  to  begin 
running  after  the  girls!  I  was  thirty  before  I 
thought  of  such  a  thing." 

"Gerald  Franklin,  Muirhead's  partner,  has  a 
sister  who  is  young,  pretty,  and  very  charming 
— ah,  Mr.  Nicholson,  the  world  begins  earlier 
and  goes  faster  than  when  we  were  young!  I 
have  seen  her  with  your  son.  I  know  nothing. 
Probably  there  is  nothing  to  know.  But  I  can 
see  what  may  be  a  reason  for  your  son  stopping 
on  in  that  den  of  thieves." 

"You  have  your  own  opinion  about  Muir- 
head's office,"  said  Nicholson,  in  a  bewildered 
tone.  His  anxiety  about  his  son  was  old  and 
permanent  and  would  keep,  but  Canon 
Hobart's  repeated  condemnation  of  Muirhead 
required  explanation. 

"I  have  a  good  nose  for  a  rascal,"  said 
Hobart  coolly,  "and  I  have  found  out  Muir- 
head long  ago.  To  be  frank,  one  of  the  objects 


74  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

of  my  visit  to  you  to-day  is  to  remonstrate 
about  your  leaving  your  son  where  he  is.  You 
have  authority  over  him;  use  it,  my  friend; 
use  it  vigorously  to  get  him  away,  I  pray  you, 
unless  there  is  something  in  the  background  of 
which  I  know  nothing." 

"Do  you  think  they  are  as  bad  as  that?" 
asked  Nicholson. 

"They?  Marshall  and  Franklin?  Ah,  that 
is  another  matter.  Those  two  are  a  little 
above  me.  Muirhead  is  a  scoundrel  as  clumsy 
as  he  is  impudent.  About  the  other  two  I  can 
say  nothing. ' ' 

"But  tell  me  what  you  think,  Canon,"  said 
the  other  eagerly.  "Every  man  has  an  opinion 
and  may  tell  it.  I  am  a  bit  anxious." 

"Well,  Reginald  has  a  head  on  his  shoul- 
ders." 

"Reginald  .  .  .  ah,  yes."  There  was  a 
sharp  impatient  tone  in  Nicholson's  voice, 
which  only  one  subject  can,  as  a  rule,  bring  to 
the  front.  "You  see  the  fact  is  I  have  ^600  in 
this  Freehold  Building  Society  of  theirs.  Six 
hundred  pounds  I  have  already  and  was  think- 
ing of  putting  some  more  in.  Now,  what  do 
you  think  of  it,  sir?" 

"You  should  know  more  of  such  matters  than 
I  do, ' '  said  the  Rector. 

"The  Company  looks  well,"  said  Nicholson, 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  75 

speaking  slowly  so  as  to  give  his  companion 
ample  opportunity  to  contradict  him  by  word 
or  look  if  he  felt  inclined;  "it  has  begun  down 
here  in  a  small  cautious  way  and  is  doing  the 
same  they  tell  me  everywhere.  I  know  the 
properties  they  have  bought  down  here.  A 
safe  seven  or  eight  per  cent,  we  were  promised, 
and  indeed  it  looks  as  if  we  were  going  to  get 
it.  Now,  you  know,  sir,  that's  tempting." 

Hobart  sat  silent  for  a  moment  and  then 
shook  his  head.  "I  leave  all  the  business  con- 
sideration alone,"  he  said.  "When  you  get 
eight  per  cent,  for  your  money  you  are  specu- 
lating, but  it  is  no  affair  of  mine  to  condemn 
speculation.  What  I  do  say  is :  keep  clear  of 
Muirhead;  take  your  son  out  of  his  office;  he 
is  a  scamp. ' ' 

"It's  true  he  is  hand  in  glove  with  Luke 
Robinson  and  Fiske  and  their  set,"  muttered 
Nicholson,  mentioning  the  Wesleyan  and  Bap- 
tist ministers  and  evidently  following  out  a  line 
of  thought  not  very  complimentary  to  Canon 
Hobart's  impartiality.  The  Canon  indeed  fol- 
lowed the  thought  and  flushed  angrily. 

"Muirhead's  preferences  and  friendships  are 
no  great  concern  of  mine,"  he  said  coldly,  "but 
I  don't  think  I  have  ever  made  myself 
notorious  by  prejudice  against  non-conformists. 
I  mostly  venture  to  regard  dissent  as  a  family 


76  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

or  even  business  matter.  Inside  my  Stafford- 
shire experience  it  is  not  a  very  vital  affair. 
When  a  man  sets  up  two  horses  they  mostly 
have  a  habit  of  stopping  at  the  door  of  the 
Parish  Church." 

"No  offence,  sir,  no  offence  to  you,"  said 
Nicholson  vaguely,  but  in  fact  he  had  spoken 
his  real  thought  in  suggesting  that  Hobart  was 
prejudiced  against  Muirhead  on  account  of  the 
latter's  friendship  with  the  two  non-conformist 
ministers.  The  Building  Society  of  which  he 
had  spoken  was  a  very  taking  affair,  and  had 
pleased  every  one  immensely.  During  the 
eight  months  in  which  it  had  been  in  existence 
in  Staffordshire  its  managers  had  cither  by 
foresight  or  good  luck  put  their  hand  on  one 
or  two  thoroughly  good  bits  of  property; 
shares  were  being  bought  eagerly;  it  was 
notorious  that  the  Staffordshire  branch  of  the 
Company  could  have  paid  a  half-yearly  divi- 
dend at  the  rate  of  eight  per  cent.  And  there 
was  another  consideration.  It  was  and  would 
be  of  immense  benefit  to  the  working  classes 
who  could  by  its  help  gradually  acquire  posses- 
sion of  the  houses  in  which  they  lived.  The 
Society  was  a  philanthropic  work; — a  philan- 
thropic work  which  paid  a  big  dividend.  Small 
wonder  that  Mr.  Nicholson  invested  his  ;£6oo, 
that  Mr.  Lowe  ventured  ^500  of  his  last 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  77 

legacy,  and  advised  Miss  Bertram  to  invest  cer- 
tain savings  in  the  wonderful  Company.  To 
get  a  thank-you  for  some  charitable  work  had 
hitherto  been  a  surprise  to  many  of  these  good 
folk.  When  they  heard  charity-managers,  who 
were  their  guides,  applauding  the  good  work 
and  business-men  on  whose  judgment  they 
were  used  to  rely,  recommending  the  invest- 
ment there  was  no  more  to  be  said  or  done  but 
pour  money  into  the  ready  coffers  of  the  Free- 
hold Building  Society. 

Canon  Hobart  encountered  another  investor 
as  he  left  Nicholson's  work  after  his  recent' 
conversation. 

"Spare  me  five  minutes,  Lowe,"  he  said, 
drawing  the  Vicar  of  Hartshill  on  to  the  ter- 
race surrounding  the  Town  Hall.  "I  want  to 
speak  to  you  about  a  very  serious  matter. 
This  building  society  affair,  you  know;  is  it 
not  a  bit  out  of  our  line?  Is  it  exactly  our  busi- 
ness to  recommend  it?" 

"The  amount  of  good  which  it  will  do  to  all 
the  working-classes  is  incalculable,"  said 
Lowe.  "To  give  a  man  a  chance  of  buying  his 
house  steadies  him,  makes  him  more  regular 
and  hopeful.  And  financially  the  thing  is 
qtiite  sound,  a  perfect  investment.  But  it  is 
above  all  a  most  useful  work.  Luke  Robinson 
says " 


78  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

"Luke  Robinson!"  echoed  Canon  Hobart. 

Vigorously  but  never  too  vigorously,  often 
but  never  too  often,  doth  the  wise  man  preach 
against  the  hasty  word.  So  idiotically  does  the 
mind  of  the  average  man  work  that  seven  solid 
arguments  can  be  pulverised  in  it  by  one  ver- 
bal blunder;  or  is  it  that  instinct  is  right,  and 
that  your  companion's  advice  is  really  less 
valuable  if  he  cannot  keep  the  blunder  out  of 
it?  I  know  not ;  I  only  know  that  at  this  scorn- 
ful ejaculation  of  Hobart's,  Lowe  merely  said 
to. himself,  "Oh,  that  is  the  reason  why  you  are 
so  strong  against  the  Freehold  Society,  just 
because  Robinson  is  for  it;  well,  well!"  and  so 
stood  silent  and  indifferent.  Maybe  also — 
though  I  love  not  to  skin  my  friends,  of  whom 
Lowe  is  certainly  one — deep  down  in  the  heart 
of  the  Vicar  of  Hartshill  was  a  certain  appre- 
ciation of  a  social  distance  between  himself  and 
the  Hon.  and  Rev.  Canon  Hobart,  and  of  a 
social  kinship  with  Mr.  Robinson,  which  made 
this  lecture  exceptionally  unpalatable. 

"Robinson  understands  the  needs  of  his  fol- 
lowers very  well,"  said  Lowe  stiffly  after  a 
pause. 

"How  much  commission  do  you  suppose  the 
Society  is  paying  him  on  the  money  which  he 
brings  in?"  asked  Hobart  scornfully. 

Lowe  stroked  his  beard  and  did  not  trouble 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  79 

to  conceal  his  disapproval  of  this  remark,  but 
there  was  nothing  to  be  said  in  reply  to  it. 
After  another  moment  of  silence  Canon  Hobart 
went  on  almost  roughly:  "But  do  I  understand 
that  you  are  also  recommending  the  Society?" 

"I  have  spoken  in  favour  of  it  several  times." 

"I  disapprove  of  it  very  strongly,  Mr.  Lowe. 
There  is  disaster  in  it.  I  prophesy  evil — noth- 
ing but  disaster  and  evil  from  it." 

A  line  of  waggons  laden  with  pottery  crates 
went  lumbering  by,  making  an  amount  of 
noise  which  justified  another  silence.  Three 
men  came  out  of  the  Town  Hall  one  after 
another,  and  the  big  swing-doors  swung  noisily 
to  and  fro.  A  bell  on  an  opposite  factory 
began  to  ring  for  the  dinner  hour.  Lowe 
noted  all  these  things  carefully  at  the  moment 
because  he  did  not  know  what  to  say  or  do 
next  and  was  glad  of  the  mental  occupation. 
Years  afterwards  he  saw  and  heard  them  all 
again  as  vividly  as  now  with  Hobart's  dark 
angry  form  towering  over  him  and  Hobart's 
threatening  prophecy  in  his  ears. 

Then  for  a  fourth  time  the  doors  of  the 
Town  Hall  swung  open  and  Gerald  Franklin 
appeared.  The  past  year  had  made  no  mark 
whatever  on  his  face  or  figure,  which  were 
those  of  a  boy  of  fifteen.  His  manner  was  a 
little  more  assured,  but  it  had  been  so  very 


8o  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

\ 

assured  before  that  this  was  not  an  improve- 
ment. Otherwise  he  was  unchanged.  He 
came  up  to  the  two  clergymen  and  with  easy 
affability  detached  Lowe  from  his  superior  and 
walked  with  him  towards  the  London  and 
County  Bank. 

"My  aunt  has  just  had  an  annoying  letter," 
he  said,  "a  notice  that  the  Elvaston  mortgage 
is  to  be  paid  off.  It  is  nearly  ^5000. " 

"She  will  have  to  find  another  investment," 
said  the  parson  sympathetically.  "Very  tire- 
some  for  her. ' ' 

"Very,"  assented  Gerald. 

"Why  doesn't  she  .  .  .  what  would  she 
think  .  .  . "  Lowe  stammered  a  little,  for 
the  memory  of  that  prophecy  was  stitt  strong 
in  him.  Then  he  went  on  resolutely :  "What 
could  she  want  better  than  the  Freehold?" 

'Well,  she  will  be  sure  to  consult  you,"  said 
the  boy,  looking  straight  before  him  and 
speaking  with  apparently  complete  indifference. 
"I  can't  imagine  a  better  investment  myself, 
but  then  of  course  she  would  think  more  of 
your  advice  than  of  mine.  Are  you  likely 
to  be  coming  up  to  see  her  to-day  or  to- 
morrow?" 

"Very  possibly  to-morrow  afternoon." 

"If  she  mentions  the  matter  to  you,  then  you 
will  advise  the  Freehold  perhaps?  Would  you 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  81 

like  to  see  any  of  the  last  papers  or  other 
details?" 

"Well,  thank  you,  thank  you.  It  is  always 
interesting  to  know  the  last  news  of  an  affair  in 
which  all  the  neighbourhood  is  interested  as 
well  as  oneself.  How  we  are  all  working  for 
you!  Your  friend  Luke  Robinson  is  bringing 
in  shareholders  as  if  he  were  paid  for  it!" 

Gerald  turned  to  his  companion  and  for  a 
brief  part  of  a  second  his  eyes  rested  on  him  in 
startled  inquiry.  After  all  the  boy  was  only 
seventeen,  when  no  man  has  complete  com- 
mand of  his  features  or  colour. 

Maybe  too  that  in  Gerald's  mind,  as  in  the 
mind  of  many  older  business  folk,  there  was  a 
touch  of  superstition  or— I  would  advance  no  the- 
ories about  another  world,  having  none  which  I 
can  defend,  but  only  beliefs — maybe  there  are 
really  guardians  beyond  our  mortal  ken  who 
will  not  suffer  their  wards  to  be  injured.  But 
on  that  night  a  curious  thing  happened  to 
Gerald  Franklin.  He  S£fc  late  at  home  over 
some  accounts  of  the  Freehold  Building 
Society;  it  was  midnight  when  he  rose  with 
the  sudden  satisfied  relaxation  of  a  man  who 
has  finished  his  work,  and  he  put  away  his 
papers  and  went  to  the  window  for  a  moment 
to  cool  and  calm  the  fever  of  figures  which 
surged  in  his  brain.  The  wind  flung  itself 


82  Resolved  to  be  Rich    ^ 

wildly  against  the  branches  of  two  great  elms 
which  faced  him,  swaying  them  to  and  fro  and 
tearing  down  their  young  leaves  and  twigs. 
Through  a  flying  scud  of  clouds  the  moon 
stooped  now  and  again  with  quick  white 
flashes;  and  on  the  cloud-scud  there  glowed 
red  and  yellow  and  white  the  reflection  of  the 
North  Staffordshire  furnaces.  Here  blazed  the 
fires  of  the  Stafford  Coal  and  Iron  works,  there 
the  more  distant  furnaces  of  the  Fenton  Col- 
lieries, close  under  him  glowed  the  covered 
fires  of  the  pottery  works,  whose  tall  chimneys, 
standing  up  among  the  flames  like  giant  stok- 
ers, seemed  to  sway  to  and  fro  with  the  fire- 
shadows.  Gerald  looked  at  them  without 
special  notice  for  a  minute,  then  shivered  a 
little,  he  knew  not  why,  and  re-closing  the 
shutter  which  he  had  opened,  turned  round 
from  the  window.  .  .  .  Standing  by  the 
table  where  he  had  been  writing,  and  looking 
down  on  the  sheets  of  calculations,  was  a  figure 
which  for  a  second  he  did  not  know  and  stared 
at  with  arrested  breath  and  terrified  eyes. 
Then  the  figure  turned  its  head  and  looked  at 
him,  and  into  Gerald's  brain  there  flashed  the 
memory  of  a  morning  three  years  ago,  of  him- 
self standing  by  a  dying  woman's  bedside,  of 
the  woman's  words:  "I  hear;  I  will  remember." 


CHAPTER  X 

The  first  yearly  meeting  of  the  Freehold 
Building  Company — the  first,  that  is  to  say,  in 
which  North  Staffordshire  was  interested — 
received  a  four-column  report  and  a  leading 
article  in  the  local  papers,  and  never,  sure, 
was  such  universal  joy  in  a  neighbourhood.  A 
dividend  of  12  per  cent,  had  been  declared,  and 
an  immense  sum  carried  to  the  reserve  fund. 
Among  women  and  men,  lay  and  clerical, 
church  and  non-conformist,  rich  and  poor, 
there  was  but  one  topic  of  conversation  for  the 
next  few  days — the  wonderful  Company  to  give 
money  to  which  was  an  act  of  charity  which 
brought  12  per  cent,  in  this  world  as  well  as 
(presumably)  100  per  cent,  in  the  next.  Lowe, 
Robinson,  Nicholson,  a  score  of  folk  who  had 
their  ,£500  or  ^1000  in  the  Company,  and  to 
whom  the  difference  between  4  and  12  per 
cent,  on  such  sums  was  the  difference  between 
comfort  and  luxury,  coul'd  hardly  stop  talking 
about  its  wonders.  They  sang  the  praises 
now  of  its  good  works,  now  of  its  dividends. 
They  overbore  scoffers,  they  fairly  tumbled 
their  friends  and  relations  into  it.  "My  dear 
83 


84  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

Miss  Bertram,"  said  Lowe  one  day  in  reply  to 
a  remark  of  hers,  "what  does  it  matter  whether 
we  do  or  do  not  like  Muirhead  or  Marshall? 
We  have  only  to  consider  the  work  of  the 
Company,  whose  figures  tell  only  one  story, 
that  the  work  is  good  and  successful.  Do  not 
let  Marshall  come  to  your  house  if  you  dislike 
him,  but  do  not  let  this  prevent  you  from  mak- 
ing yourself  comfortable  for  life  by  putting 
your  money  in  his  Company."  Lowe's  ordi- 
narily timid  common-sense  had  been  swept 
away  by  the  excitement  of  the  first  financial 
speculation  which  he  had  understood  and 
embarked  in,  but  the  reputation  of  it  remained 
here  among  folk  who  had  not  noticed  its 
wreck,  and  he  fairly  forced  Miss  Bertram  to 
promise  to  invest  her  ^5000  in  the  Company. 
He  invested  all  that  he  could  himself  lay  hands 
on ;  half  a  hundred  ministers  of  all  denomina- 
tions were  doing  the  same;  while  the  cooler 
men  in  the  district — Canon  Hobart  on  one  side 
and  Luke  Robinson  on  the  other — protested 
angrily  or  laughed  with  quiet  amusement.  To 
the  men  who  are  engineering  a  boom  of  this 
kind  there  is  a  quiet  humour  in  it  which  must 
be  irresistibly  charming.  You  make  churches 
and  creeds,  finance  and  newspapers,  law  and 
society  spin  round  to  your  lash  as  if  you  were 
whipping  half  a  dozen  tops  on  a  clear  floor; 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  85 

and  does  any  man  with  a  pretence  of  recollec- 
tion of  his  boyhood  assert  that  a  more  entranc- 
ing occupation  than  that  could  be  found? 
Gerald  Franklin  had  never  whipped  tops,  but 
the  excitement  and  sport  of  this  game  of 
intrigue  made  his  eyes  shine  and  his  whole  face 
light  up  now  and  again  with  the  joy  of  it.  The 
boy  had  the  whole  business  at  his  finger-ends. 
He  was  the  real,  the  only  trusted  counsellor  in 
the  North  Staffordshire  department.  I  think, 
incredible  as  it  may  seem — though  to  be  sure 
he  regarded  all  men  as  more  or  less  astute 
knaves  and  all  their  successful  proceedings  as 
prtmd facie  dishonest — that  he  saw  from  top- 
most branch  to  deepest  roots  the  real  character 
of  the  Freehold  Building  Company,  and  fore- 
saw, dimly,  perhaps,  but  as  clearly  as  any  one 
could  yet  do,  its  disastrous  end. 

It  was  an  afternoon  in  May,  not  very  long 
after  the  last  yearly  meeting  of  the  Company, 
and  Marshall  had  come  down  to  discuss  with 
his  confidants  the  new  shareholders  who  were 
coming  in.  Muirhead,  Gerald,  and  Luke  Rob- 
inson lunched  with  him  at  the  Borough  Arms 
at  Newcastle,  and  then  after  an  hour's  chat  at 
the  offices,  the  Wesleyan  Minister  departed, 
and  Marshall  proposed  a  visit  to  Hartshill. 

"My  sister  has  had  rather  a  surprise  since 
you  saw  her  last,"  said  Gerald  in  his  quiet, 


86  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

even  voice,  unusually  quiet  this  time  in  order 
to  hide  the  fury  which  was  raging  below. 
"My  late  aunt,  Marian  Franklin,  who  died 
three  years  ago,  had  an  uncle  who  went  out  to 
South  Africa.  He  died  just  before  she  did  and 
made  a  will,  of  which  we  have  just  heard,  leav- 
ing everything  to  my  Aunt  Marian.  My  aunt, 
just  before  she  died,  made  a  will  leaving  every- 
thing she  had  to  my  sister  Monica,  who  so 
comes  in  for  this  old  man's  money." 

"Is  it  much?" 

His  two  auditors  asked  the  question  in  a 
breath  and  then  flushed  angrily,  glaring  at  one 
another.  The  boy  between  them  looked 
straight  before  him,  and  if  the  corners  of  his 
mouth  twitched  a  little  no  one  saw  it. 

"His  property  consisted  only  of  two  thou- 
sand shares  in  the  Carlton  mines  in  South 
Africa.  The  shares  are  only  worth  about  155. 
each  now  and  are  paying  no  dividend,  but  the 
lawyers  who  have  the  will  advise  us  to  hold 
them  because  some  new  machinery  is  being  put 
up  and  a  new  part  of  the  roof  opened,  and  so 
the  shares  may  soon  be  more  valuable. '  * 

The  two  men  on  each  side  of  the  speaker 
quickened  their  pace  involuntarily  as  if  the 
gold  mine  shares,  even  two  thousand  in  a 
doubtful  mine,  were  a  magnet  drawing  them  to 
it  faster  as  they  came  nearer. 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  87 

"But  it  is  rather  rough  on  you,  Franklin," 
said  Marshall  at  last. 

"Oh,  I  have  my  own  money,  as  you  know," 
said  Gerald.  "It  only  pays  4  per  cent. ;  still 
it's  enough  for  me." 

"Lowe  is  the  trustee  of  it,  isn't  he?" 

"Yes,"  was  the  brief  reply. 

"He  wouldn't  make  any  difficulty  about  let- 
ting you  transfer  it  into  the  Freehold." 

For  answer  the  boy  turned  his  head  and 
while  one  might  count  five  looked  very  quietly 
and  steadily  at  Marshall.  The  elder  man 
turned  away  after  this  momentary  understand- 
ing and  walked  on  in  silence.  Astonishment 
and  alarm  were  in  his  mind,  with  wonder  as  to 
how  he  should  deal  with  this  new  development 
of  affairs.  Gerald  Franklin  knew  the  finance 
of  the  Freehold  and  saw  something  wrong?  If 
so  why  not  a  score  of  other  local  managers? 
The  fellow  stroked  his  perfumed  black  beard 
and  stared  before  him  in  gloomy  perplexity, 
wishing  that  he  were  alone  now  with  this 
youngster.  And  so  they  came  to  Miss  Ber- 
tram's house. 

Monica  was  alone  in  the  sitting-room  and 
greeted  the  party  in  her  usual  impassive 
manner,  a  compound  of  fear  lest  she  should 
offend  her  brother's  patrons  and  suspicion  of 
the  patrons  themselves.  She  listened  to  Mar- 


88  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

shall's  congratulations  on  her  legacy  and 
explanations  about  the  position  of  the  Carlton 
mines  with  polite  interest,  but  asked  no  ques- 
tions or  advice,  while  Miss  Bertram,  who  had 
come  in,  made  attempts  to  change  the  conver- 
sation. Suddenly  a  gleam  of  quiet  amusement 
flashed  across  Monica's  face,  and  Muirhead 
noting  it,  and  following  the  direction  of  her 
eyes,  saw  Canon  Hobart  walk  up  the  front  and 
ring  the  door-bell.  He  leant  across  and  mut- 
tered something  to  Marshall,  who  answered 
curtly,  "I  know  it, "  and  then  stood  up  with  the 
rest  as  the  Rector  was  shown  in. 

"It  is  curious  that  I  should  not  have  met  you 
before,"  said  Marshall  affably  when  the  two 
men  had  been  introduced. 

"You  know  a  good  many  people  in  Stoke 
now,  of  course." 

"Well,  they  have  put  me  in  charge  of  their 
money  at  any  rate.  And  I  know  a  good  many 
of  clients,  as  one  may  call  them,  personally 
too." 

"You  have  known  the  neighbourhood 
before?"  asked  Hobart. 

"Oh,  no.  I  was  down  here  some  years  ago, 
but  only  for  a  few  days.  Trade  has  improved 
since  then.  There  is  plenty  of  money  to  invest 
among  all  classes  now. ' ' 

"It  seems  all  going  into  your  Company." 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  89 

"A  large  amount  of  it  certainly." 

"You  are  in  treaty  for  the  Arkhill  collieries, 
I  hear." 

"We  should  like  the  whole  Arkhill  estate," 
said  Marshall,  "if  we  could  get  it  at  our  own 
price,  and  we  don't  mind  having  the  colliery 
as  well.  It  is  worth  money.  Sir  Richard 
Cullamore  made  a  mistake  in  digging  for  coal 
in  that  particular  corner.  It  was  farthest  from 
the  house,  of  course.  .  .  .  " 

"That  was  his  reason  for  choosing  that  spot 
certainly.  And  since  he  died — ten,  no  eleven 
years  ago,  wasn't  it? — no  one  has  had  money 
to  do  any  more.  You  knew  him  apparently?" 

In  a  French  duel  between  two  skilful  fencers, 
you  may  notice  how  after  reprise  of  cautious 
en  garde  fighting,  there  is  a  sudden,  quick  mur- 
mur of  "touche"  among  the  spectators.  Before 
the  director  or  seconds  know  it,  before  even 
the  combatant  himself  feels  it,  the  bystanders 
seem  to  guess  by  instinct  that  something  has 
gone  wrong  somewhere.  Hobart,  Muirhead 
and  Gerald  saw  with  surprise  an  uneasy  look 
come  into  Marshall's  eyes,  heard  him  begin  a 
long,  rapid  explanation  of  how  he  had  come  by 
his  knowledge.  Then  Hobart  noted  suddenly 
that  he  was  pronouncing  Sir  Richard  Culla- 
more's  name  in  Staffordshire  fashion  —  "Cul- 
mer' ' — and  he  turned  and  looked  straight  and 


9O  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

fixedly  at  the  man,  whose  uneasiness,  he  per- 
ceived, increased  under  the  look.  Where  had 
he  seen  Marshall  before,  where  heard  this 
smooth,  high-pitched  voice?  Somewhere,  he 
was  certain.  Yet  likely  enough  the  man  had 
been  in  Staffordshire  ten  years  ago  on  very 
ordinary  business:  though  why  in  that  case 
should  he  look  so  uncomfortable  about  it,  and 
edge  away  from  all  talk  about  the  subject  as  he 
now  proceeded  to  do?  The  Rector  bent  his 
mind  as  he  walked  home  to  the  problem,  but 
it  was  no  use  yet,  he  could  not  remember. 

In  the  house  which  he  had  left,  Miss  Ber- 
tram drew  her  brother  into  the  garden : 

"Are  you  mad?"  she  asked  angrily.  "Why 
do  you  come  here  if  you  can't  help  making 
blunders  like  that?  Why  do  you  come  at  all?" 

"I  am  obliged  to  be  in  the  neighbourhood 
pretty  often,"  he  answered  gloomily,  "and  this 
is  the  first  time  I  have  made  any  mistake. " 

"You  will  be  in  prison  soon,  I  can  see,"  said 
the  woman,  shaking  her  finger  at  him  in 
threatening  warning.  "But  I  have  to  ask  you 
something  now" — her  voice  changed;  she 
hesitated,  and  then  spoke  again  almost  plead- 
ingly— "you  are  connected  with  this  Company 
somehow;  I  don't  understand  in  what  position, 
biit  I  hope  you  are  working  honestly ;  indeed, ' ' 
she  added  hurriedly,  "I  daresay  you  are.  But 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  91 

you  know  something  about  it  anyhow.  I  sup- 
pose you  would  not  deliberately  deceive  me" — 
she  eyed  him  rather  wistfully,  and  the  man  did 
his  best  to  look  honest.  "I  have  got  ,£5000  to 
invest,  and  every  one  is  urging  me  to  put  it 
into  this  Company.  The  loss  of  it  would  ruin 
me,  as  you  know.  Is  the  Company  safe?  Tell 
me  truthfully,  Joshua.  You  don't  want  to 
injure  me,  I  suppose.  Tell  me  if  the  invest- 
ment is  a  safe  one."  Miss  Christina's  hands 
were  being  clasped  and  unclasped  in  front  of 
her  as  she  spoke.  The  lace  cap  on  her  head 
trembled  a  little.  She  stood  quite  near  him, 
and  once  stretched  out  a  mittened  hand  as  if  to 
put  it  on  his  arm. 

"Who  has  spoken  to  you  about  it?"  he  asked, 
wanting  to  gain  time. 

"Mr.  Lowe,  Mr.  Robinson,  every  one  I  meet 
in  fact." 

"You  would  be  quite  content  with  the  invest- 
ment?" 

' '  I  feel  it  would  be  ridiculous  to  go  against 
such  advice  without  any  reason." 

"Haven't  you  asked  Benson?"  asked  her 
brother  nervously.  Benson  was  the  Stoke 
lawyer  who  did  Miss  Bertram's  little  bits  of 
business  for  her. 

"He  recommends  it  too.  I  met  him  again 
only  yesterday  in  Stoke  walking  with  Mr.  Rob- 


92  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

inson,  and  they  both    urged    me  to    buy  the 
shares  at  once. ' ' 

A  soft  May  breeze  drifted  through  the  lilac- 
bush  under  which  they  were  standing,  scatter- 
ing its  scent  and  brushing  off  some  rain-drops 
which  hung  on  its  vividly-green  leaves.  The 
scent  from  beds  of  wet  yellow  daffodils  and  late 
primroses  and  early  pinks  was  carried  past 
them.  From  the  elm-trees,  on  whose  young 
leaves  rain-drops  lay  gleaming  in  the  sunlight, 
came  the  high  shrilling  of  young  birds  and  the 
answering  notes  of  the  parent  birds.  Spring 
flowers  and  greenery,  washed  by  the  recent 
showers  from  their  smoke-covering,  flushed 
out  in  vivid  colours  above  the  smoke-clouds 
which  hung  below.  Through  even  these  the 
May  afternoon  sunlight  pierced  rainbow  paths 
and  turned  the  chimneys  to  columns  of  gold. 
The  familiar  home  scene,  every  detail  of  which 
seemed  to  have  been  burnished  up  to  a  degree 
of  beauty  which  even  his  exile  memories  of  it 
had  hardly  exceeded,  worked  on  Marshall's 
mind  now  to  such  an  extent  that  with  a  mut- 
tered curse  on  Robinson  he  turned  away,  say- 
ing aloud:  "You  should  never  invest  money 
anywhere  in  a  hurry.  Wait  till  I  send  you  all 
possible  particulars  about  the  company.  I  will 
write  my  own  advice  too.  I  don't  care  to 
answer  any  such  questions  offhand."  He 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  93 

stood  still  for  a  moment  looking  round  the 
garden,  and  another  great  breath  of  lilac-scent 
swept  across  his  face;  then  he  came  back  and 
stood  near  his  sister. 

"I  will  be  more  careful,  Chris,"  he  said. 
"You  would  be  sorry,  I  really  believe,  if  I  were 
nabbed.  As  for  my  work  now,  I  am  earning 
money  perfectly  honestly;  you  believe  that, 
don't  you?" 

"I  suppose  you  are,"  said  the  woman  a  little 
grudgingly.  "Everybody  speaks  well  of  the 
work,  and  I  know  nothing  against  it." 


CHAPTER  XI 

On  the  "broad  road  leading  to  destruction" 
there  is  a  point,  one  knows  not  exactly  where, 
at  which  it  is  in  effect  impossible  to  turn  back ; 
and  even  as  to  some  persons  that  text  in  the 
Revelation:  "He  that  is  unjust  let  him  be 
unjust  still;  he  that  is  filthy  let  him  be  filthy 
still,"  hath  always  seemed  the  most  terrible 
ideal  of  Hell  ever  conceived,  so  this  house  on 
the  road  of  sin  where  we  may  imagine  this  con- 
demnation to  eternal  filth  and  eternal  injustice 
being  pronounced  is  a  place  of  horror  unspeak- 
able. A  man  sits  down  in  it  tired  of  vice, 
fraud,  greed,  unsated  and  knowing  himself  to 
be  insatiable,  sick  of  self-seeking,  tired  of  the 
pain  and  ruin  which  he  has  caused,  and  often 
enough  suffered  in  the  world,  horror-stricken  at 
the  evil  which  he  has  done,  is  doing  and  is  plan- 
ning to  do.  He  will  repent  and  reform,  he 
will  even  restore  a  little  of  his  ill-gotten  gain 
to  mankind ;  he  will  retrace  his  footsteps,  enter 
that  other  gate,  struggle  down  that  other 
thorny  path.  But,  ah  Heaven!  where  is  the 
road  back?  There  is  one,  but  along  it  are 

94 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  95 

scoffing  companions  and  ridicule  and  shame; 
another,  but  there  is  suffering  and  pain  for 
those  who  have  shared  his  misdeeds,  and  the 
certainty  that  to  them  at  least  his  salvation 
means  ruin  and  death;  there  is  another,  but  it 
is  very  grim,  for  it  leads  by  confession  and 
restitution  to  prison  and  perhaps  even  further. 
With  dim  and  ever-growing  fear  the  man  looks 
out  and  sees  that  he  cannot  go  back,  or  even 
stay  where  he  is,  for  retribution  is  at  his  heels. 
He  must  go  on — on — and  his  only  ambition  as 
he  flies  is  to  outstrip  the  pursuing  vengeance. 

"I  dare  not  spare  her,"  muttered  Marshall 
to  himself  as  he  sat  in  the  train  speeding  back 
to  London.  "Suppose  that  she  and  the  boy, 
both  of  whom  are  supposed  to  be  my  friends, 
refuse  to  invest  money  in  this,  what  will  people 
down  here  say?  I  dare  not  risk  it.  She  must 
put  her  money  in,  and  I  will  try  and  save 
some  of  it  before  the  smash  comes.  That  boy! 
— how  does  he  know?"  .  .  .  The  man's 
eyes  grew  dark  and  furious  and  his  face  was 
very  white — "How  can  one  trust  him?  Yet 
one  must;  there  is  no  choice. "  His  thoughts 
grew  more  sombre  every  hour,  and  when  the 
express  arrived  at  Euston,  late  as  it  was,  he 
drove  to  the  house  of  a  fellow-director  and 
asked  to  see  him  at  once. 

Lord    Eastney  was    a    peer    with    a    large 


96  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

country  and  town  house,  an  army  of  footmen, 
cooks,  agents  and  secretaries,  and  a  consider- 
able estate  which  produced  a  nominal  rental 
known  only  to  readers  of  the  Financial  Reform 
Almanack  and  a  real  income  of  about  ^1200  a 
year.  He  had  one  valuable  asset — an  old  and 
famous  name,  and  on  this  he  lived  as  comfort- 
ably as  he  desired  and  as  honestly  as  he  could. 
He  really  had  no  cut  and  dried  desire  to 
plunder  his  neighbours,  but  merely  a  wish  to 
get  his  share  of  this  world's  goods;  and  my 
Lord's  idea  of  his  share  was  as  much  as  he 
could  possibly  get  without  being  hanged  or  sent 
to  gaol  while  getting  it. 

"How  are  you,  Mr.  Marshall?  Anything 
wrong?"  The  Marquis  had  no  great  love  for 
his  fellow-director,  but  regarded  his  acquaint- 
ance— like  getting  up  early,  studying  figures, 
missing  two  days  of  Ascot,  and  lunching  in 
City  restaurants — as  one  of  the  evils  of  an 
income  which  would  not  cover  one's  expendi- 
ture. Therefore  he  shook  hands  with  him, 
smiled  affably,  asked  him  if  he  had  dined,  and 
offered  him  coffee,  liqueurs  and  a  cigar. 

"I  want,"  began  Marshall  abruptly,  "to  say 
a  few  words  about  that  Arkhill  property  in 
Staffordshire  before  the  meeting  on  Thursday. 
You  remember  the  details  of  it?" 

"We  were  to  buy  it  from  the  Merton  Insur- 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  97 

ance  Company."  The  Marquis  half -lowered 
his  eyelids  over  his  eyes  and  sat  straight  up  in 
his  chair.  His  fingers,  which  had  been  twirling 
some  gold  eye-glasses  round  and  round  on  their 
string,  stopped  working  and  his  face  was  very 
grave. 

"I  think  myself  that  ^85,000  would  be  a  fair 
price,"  said  Marshall. 

"Yes?"  asked  the  Marquis  in  a  tone  which 
gave  you  the  impression  that  the  speaker  would 
have  been  startled  if  he  had  not  been  Chairman 
of  the  Freehold  Building  Company,  and  so  past 
being  startled  by  anything. 

"Yes,"  went  on  Marshall  aggressively;  "the 
land  round  Dently  could  be  let  as  allotments, 
and  there  is  workable  coal,  I  am  certain,  nearer 
the  Hall.  ..." 

"I  know  the  Arkhill  property,  Mr.  Mar- 
shall, ' '  said  the  other  a  trifle  drily. 

"Then  your  lordship  must  know  how  it  has 
increased  in  value  since  we  bought  it  for  the 
Merton. " 

"Ten  months  ago  that  was,  wasn't  it?  And 
we  paid  ,£30,000.  Yes,  I  remember.  Oh,  no 
doubt  it  has  improved." 

"We  may  consider  the  price  fixed  at  ^85,000 
then?"  asked  Marshall. 

"Very  good,"  assented  Lord  Eastney  in  a 
low  voice. 


98  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

"There  is  another  very  small  matter.  I 
have  been  down  in  Staffordshire  several  times 
lately,  and  there  is  very  little  more  to  be  done 
down  there  for  some  time.  We  have  every 
one  in  the  Company  who  has  any  money  to 
invest;  we  have  bought  all  the  property  which 
is  worth  buying.  I  want  to  bring  our  best  man 
there  up  here — a  man  called  Franklin.  We 
could  send  Seymour  down  into  Essex  and  give 
his  place  to  young  Franklin." 

"He  is  young?" 

"Very;  but  he  understands  our  business 
thoroughly." 

"I  see.  Yet  ^"400  a  year  is  a  big  salary  for 
a  lad.  Don't  we  want  to  reserve  places  of  that 
sort  for  people  who — understand — our  business 
more  thoroughly  than  any  lad  could?" 

"When  I  find  one  who  knows  the  whole  of  it 
from  top  to  bottom  better  than  this  person,  he 
shall  have  Franklin's  place,"  said  Marshall 
grimly. 

"Very  good."  The  pale  patrician  face  was 
beginning  to  look  very  wear^  "Is  that  all, 
Mr.  Marshall?  Yes?  Then  ..." 

With  an  unusually  decisive  movement  Lord 
Eastney  rose  and  moved  towards  the  library 
door,  which  he  held  open.  Marshall  passed 
out  biting  his  lips,  and  held  out  his  hand  to  say 
good-bye  with  almost  a  threatening  gesture. 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  99 

Eastney  looked  at  the  hand,  hesitated  for  a 
moment,  then  slightly  shrugging"  his  shoulders 
with  a  "what's  the  good  of  it?"  air,  put  his  own 
hand  into  it  for  a  moment. 

Marshall  went  home  frightened  and  furious; 
he  had  never  before  met  with  these  curt  laconic 
answers,  this  chilling  reception,  from  the  chair- 
man of  the  Freehold  Building  Society.  Lord 
Eastney  was  also  a  fellow-director  of  the  Mer- 
ton  Insurance  Company,  and  one  or  two  other 
smaller  associations  by  whose  financial  jug- 
glings  between  themselves  money  flowed  into 
his  pocket.  He  dared  not  think  of  what  would 
happen  if  the  Marquis  was  going  to  desert 
him,  and  Gerald  was  going  to  drop  hints  in 
Staffordshire  about  the  Freehold  finance  and 
its  transactions  with  the  Insurance  Company. 
He  sat  late  that  night  poring  over  a  private 
investment  ledger,  and  at  last  wrote  instruc- 
tions for  the  sale  of  all  his  English  invest- 
ments. Then  he  walked  about  thinking  for 
another  half  hour,  then  sat  down  again  and 
wrote  to  his  sister,  enclosing  papers  about  the 
Freehold,  and  advising  her  strongly  to  put  her 
^5000  into  it.  As  he  finished  his  letter,  and, 
fearful  of  his  resolution,  took  it  out  at  once  to 
the  post,  the  sky  was  yellow  and  pink  and  grey, 
birds  twittered  in  the  pearl-grey  light  and 
faintly-glimmering  stars  were  dying  one  by  one 


IOO  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

in  the  dawn  of  day.  For  a  short  time  longer  a 
soft  restful  silence  reigned,  and  then  in  far-off 
murmurs  the  life  of  London  began.  As  he 
reached  his  own  door-step  again  Marshall  stood 
for  a  moment  and  listened  to  its  rising  tide  of 
sound,  half  fancied,  half  real,  and  wholly  awe- 
some. Lives  coming  and  going,  pain  sighing 
gratitude  for  the  daylight,  and  weariness  curs- 
ing its  recall  to  toil,  dancers  coming  home  from 
the  ball  with  music  in  their  ears,  and  workers 
coming  out  to  their  labour  with  the  hunger- 
spectre  at  their  heels,  lovers  who  have  passed 
their  nuit  blanche  drawing  aside  curtains  to 
whisper  odes  to  the  rose-tinted  sunrise,  men 
who  have  blundered  frightfully,  and  spent  the 
night  searching  for  remedies,  and  finding  none, 
and  now  stood  at  open  windows,  muttering 
despair — all  added  their  little  whisper  to  the 
murmur  which  floats  under  the  London  dawn. 
And  Marshall,  listening  to  it,  shuddered 
slightly  and  went  to  his  room  with  a  curious 
feeling  of  oppression  and  fear,  as  of  a  multi- 
tude waiting  for  him,  to  tear  him  in  pieces. 


CHAPTER   XII 

Unrequited  love  and  sea-sickness  are  the 
subjects  of  universal  scoffing,  yet  while  their 
agony  is  at  its  height,  the  world  can  hardly 
show  more  horrible  suffering.  Some  people 
say  that  sea-sickness  is  the  worst,  and  affect  to 
prove  their  theory  by  pointing  out  that  the 
pain  of  it  swallows  up — or  let  us  say  absorbs, 
since  to  swallow  up  is  not  a  happy  expression 
under  the  circumstances — the  other.  It  is  too 
true  that  an  unfortunate  love,  though  it  may 
feed  on  your  damask  cheek  night  and  day,  will 
certainly  be  forgotten  during  a  crossing  to  the 
Isle  of  Man  or  Dieppe,  but  it  has  a  bigger 
record  of  suicide  and  crime  behind  it,  and 
therefore  I  should  award  it  the  first  place.  Yet 
it  may  be  said  again  in  reply  that  this  record 
counts  for  little,  since  the  sea-sick  are,  for 
obvious  reasons,  incapable  of  committing  crime 
themselves,  and  that  if  all  the  murders  and 
other  injuries  done  in  intention — especially  to 
the  steward  when  he  cometh  not  promptly  at 
call,  or  to  the  captain  who  "lies  to"  for  an  hour 
off  Douglas  Point — were  counted,  the  record  of 
101 


IO2  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

the  sea-sick  would  be  the  blackest  on  earth. 
But  your  intention  and  desire  to  commit  mur- 
der, whatever  their  theological  value,  have 
none  in  the  eyes  of  the  police,  whereas  the 
unhappy  lover,  with  his  dagger,  and  pistol,  and 
poison,  most  distinctly  has.  Therefore  his 
record  is  the  worst,  and  I  count  him  chief 
among  sufferers. 

Mr.  Sampson  Muirhead  could  yet  experience 
moments  of  hope.  When  he  was  in  good 
spirits,  or  when  good  spirits  were  in  him,  he 
could  still  see  himself  the  husband  of  Monica, 
and,  though  to  do  him  justice  this  counted  for 
very  little,  the  part-proprietor  of  her  gold-mine 
shares,  and  heir  to  Miss  Bertram's  little  for- 
tune. But  it  wanted  every  day  a  greater 
height  of  exaltation  to  see  this  vision,  and 
every  day  the  hours  of  hopelessness  grew 
longer.  With  all  his  heart  he  loved  the  girl; 
for  her  sake  he  worked  hard  and  steadily, 
abjuring  many  a  little  amusement  which  cost 
money  or  seemed  wrong.  So  far  let  us  pity 
him.  If  his  manner  of  getting  rich  was  not 
very  honest — well,  the  whole  business  of  the 
Freehold  Building  Society  and  the  Merton 
Insurance  Company,  of  which  he  was  nomi- 
nally local  manager,  was  dishonest  from  top  to 
bottom,  and  he  was  no  worse  than  a  hundred  of 
other  men  in  both  of  them.  A  scoundrel  you 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  103 

call  him,  and  ask  why  he  did  not  throw  up  his 
business,  and  denounce  it  in  public  and  private? 
Ah !  messieurs !  do  you  think  that  such  scrupu- 
lous men  crowd  life's  highways,  and  that  every 
other  person  you  meet  in  the  street  is  so  very 
anxious  about  poking  his  nose  into  the  morals 
of  a  business  out  of  which  he  clears  ^1000  a 
year,  and  so  very  eager  to  find  and  hunt  down 
and  expose  its  faults?  Pardieu !  it  seems  to  me 
that  nine-tenths  of  my  own  acquaintances  con- 
tentedly leave  that  to  the  law,  and  are  only 
thankful  if  after  a  crash  they  find  their  own 
skins  whole,  and  themselves  on  the  right  side 
of  the  county  gaol's  wide  gates.  Yet,  remem- 
ber, I  have  written  down  long  ago  that  Muir- 
head  is  a  villain. 

The  suspense  with  regard  to  Monica  became 
unbearable,  yet  in  his  heart  he  knew  that  cer- 
tainty would  be  worse.  His  visits  to  Hartshill 
grew  sometimes  frequent  till  they  became  a 
daily  occurrence,  then  he  would  meet  young 
Nicholson  at  the  house  three  days  running, 
Monica's  patient  politeness  would  give  way  a 
little,  Miss  Bertram's  reception  grew  colder, 
and  he  would  retire,  resolved  to  stay  away  for 
a  week.  The  week  ended,  he  came  back  with 
a  touch  of  hope  in  his  mind,  having  explained 
away  to  his  own  satisfaction  all  previous 
repulses;  his  love  flamed  back  and  burnt 


104  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

higher  than  ever  before  as  Monica,  anxious 
lest  she  should  have  been  rude  to  him  on  his 
last  visit,  met  him  with  a  little  extra  politeness, 
and  the  man's  hopes  rose  to  heaven.  How 
many  a  poor  devil  lives  and  thrives  on  an  occa- 
sional kind  word  like  that,  and  is  happy  for  a 
week  because  the  young  lady  has  offered  him 
tea  with  a  smile  instead  of  with  a  merely 
indifferent  gaze!  Do  not,  I  pray  you,  young 
ladies,  believe  the  books  which  recommend  you 
to  discourage  all  lovers  except  the  one  whom 
you  mean  to  marry.  On  the  contrary,  encour- 
age them,  talk  to  them,  flirt  with  them,  let  the 
poor  wretches  be  happy  till  the  last  possible 
moment.  You  might,  even  when  the  proposal 
comes,  accept  it  for  a  short  time,  and  after- 
wards explain  to  the  man  that  for  certain 
reasons  you  cannot  marry  him,  but  for  his  sake 
will  remain  single  all  your  life.  Believe  me — 
though  to  be  sure  you  may  not  like  this  part  of 
the  argument — he  will  have  forgotten  all  about 
it  long  before  your  real  engagement  is 
announced. 

Monica  had  no  intention  of"  stretching  her 
kindness  to  Muirhead  to  this  point,  but  the 
tradition  of  his  protection  of  Gerald  was  strong 
in  the  minds  of  both  women,  and  they 
treated  Muirhead  as  well  as  they  could. 
They  even  invited  him  to  spend  an  afternoon 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  105 

with  them  occasionally.  Gerald  brought  such 
an  invitation  to  the  Newcastle  office  with  him 
one  Friday  morning,  and  laughed  a  little  at  the 
quick  flush  and  stammering  words  of  gratitude 
with  which  Muirhead  accepted  it.  Reggie 
Nicholson  heard  it  too,  and  a  fury  of  jealousy 
sprang  up  in  his  mind.  She  wanted  Muir- 
head, she  desired  his  company  for  a  whole 
afternoon,  she  loved  him,  she  was  going  to 
marry  him.  And  by  "she"  Reggie  did  not 
mean  Miss  Christina,  although  the  invitation 
came  nominally  from  her.  Mr.  Nicholson 
resolved  to  give  up  his  post  in  Muirhead's 
office,  to  seek  work  in  a  distant  part  of  the 
country,  or  even  to  try  tea-planting  in  Ceylon, 
and  above  all  never  to  see  or  speak  to  Monica 
Franklin  again. 

The  three  men  were  soon  deep  in  work,  and 
only  the  turning  of  ledger-leaves,  the  scratch- 
ing of  pens  or  a  murmur  of  conversation  from 
Muirhead's  room  broke  the  silence  of  the  big 
office.  Presently  among  some  figures,  refer- 
ring to  the  transfer  of  shares,  which  Nicholson 
-was  checking  and  entering  on  the  register  of 
shareholders,  were  some  which  he  did  not 
understand,  and  he  went  into  Muirhead's  office 
to  ask  for  an  explanation.  Muirhead  answered 
at  random;  perhaps  he  was  really  busy,  or 
more  probably  he  did  not  understand  the 


io6  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

transaction  very  clearly  himself,  but  at  last  he 
said  impatiently,  "Ask  Franklin  to  explain 
how  the  entry  is  to  be  made." 

Gerald  took  the  sheet  of  figures,  glanced 
through  it,  put  aside  a  letter  which  he  was 
writing  to  study  the  paper  more  closely,  finally 
asked  abruptly,  "Where  did  you  get  this?" 

"Mr.  Muirhead  gave  it  to  me  this  morning. 
The  paper  is  marked,  you  see,  'entries  for  the 
North  Staffordshire  share-register.'  " 

"It  came  in  a  bundle  of  others  from  London 
this  morning,"  said  Muirhead,  looking  up. 

Gerald  picked  up  the  big  envelope  in  which 
the  documents  from  headquarters  had  arrived 
that  morning;  it  was  marked  "Private  and 
Confidential"  in  large  letters,  and,  young 
Nicholson's  eyes  being  directed  again  for  a 
moment  on  to  the  sheet  which  he  had  brought, 
Gerald  held  up  the  envelope  with  his  fingers 
on  the  words  for  Muirhead  to  see.  The  elder 
man  flushed  angrily  and  Gerald  turned  back 
with  an  impassive  stare  to  the  sheet  of  figures, 
pretending  to  study  them,  but  in  reality  con- 
sidering what  to  do.  The  sheet  was  to  his  eyes 
so  simple  and  straight-forward  that  he  could 
only  suppose  that  Nicholson  had  in  fact  come 
to  know  whether  he  was  to  enter  it  as  it  stood 
or  not.  That  being  so,  attempts  at  disguise 
would  be  a  blunder. 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  107 

"These  five  sums,"  he  said  quietly,  "make 
up  five-hundred  ten-pound  shares  which  Mr. 
Luke  Robinson  has  sold,  and  Miss  Bertram  has 
bought.  I  will  attend  to  the  register  entries. 
There  is  no  hurry  about  them." 

"Mr.  Robinson  has  sold  all  his  shares  then?" 

"Apparently." 

"  But  as  a  director  is  he  not  obliged     .     .     ." 

"Mr.  Robinson's  business  has  nothing  to  do 
with  you,"  said  Muirhead  angrily;  "and let  me 
remind  you,  Mr.  Nicholson,  by  the  way,  that 
everything  which  you  hear  in  this  office  is 
private,  not  for  outside  discussion." 

"I  remember  your  telling  me  so,"  was  the 
cool  reply,  and  the  young  man  went  backxto 
his  work. 

Franklin  and  Muirhead  did  not  exchange 
another  word  for  the  rest  of  the  morning;  in 
the  afternoon  a  little  business  talk  passed  and 
finally,  shortly  after  six  o'clock,  they  left  the 
office  together. 

' '  I  wanted  a  few  words  with  you  alone, ' '  said 
Gerald  ; at  last.  "I  got  a  letter  yesterday  from 
Mr.  Marshall  offering  me  a  clerkship  at  the 
headquarters  of  the  Freehold." 

Muirhead  faced  round  on  him  with  terror  in 
his  eyes:  "And  you?" 

"I  have  accepted  it  of  course.  I  wrote  to  do 
so  this  morning." 


Io8  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

"I  think  you  ought  to  have  consulted  some 
one — myself — Robinson — some  one  here  first." 

Gerald  laughed  a  cool  irritating  laugh  which 
meant  "Men  do  not  consult  their  subordinates 
before  taking  steps  like  that."  Aloud  he  said: 
"I  have  told  nobody  but  you  and  my  aunt 
about  the  offer,  and  nobody  but  you  that  I 
have  accepted  it.  I  believe" — the  boy  laughed 
again — "you  are  being  invited  to-morrow  after- 
noon to  consult  about  whether  I  shall  accept  or 
not." 

"And  suppose,"  said  Muirhead  angrily, 
"that  I  tell  Miss  Bertram  that  you  have  said 
'yes'  already  and  then  advise  her  very  strongly 
not  to  let  you  go?" 

"I  don't  think  you  will  do  that,"  was  the 
quiet  response. 

"I  will.  Why  shouldn't  I?  There  are  a 
score  of  reasons  against  your  going.  .  .  ." 

Gerald  was  silent.  When  men  used  argu- 
ments to  which  they  knew  the  answer,  he 
believed  in  holding  his  tongue  as  the  most 
impressive  method  of  showing  them  that  he 
knew  the  answer  too.  And,  like  many  other 
strong-minded  strong-willed  persons,  he  had  a 
curious  power  of  making  a  silence  mean  some- 
thing— a  power  which  fills  your  adversary  with 
bewildered  awe  and  is  therefore  worth  culti- 
vating. 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  109 

"But  I  am  not  going  to  do  that,"  added 
Muirhead  rather  hastily,  and  a  faint  ironical 
smile  flitted  across  Gerald's  face;  "because — 
because — well,  to  be  candid  with  you,  my  lad,  I 
want  something  from  you,  something  of  very 
great  importance  to  myself.  It  has  nothing  to 
do  with  business.  I  have  walked  out  here  with 
you  this  evening  to  ask  you  about  it.  I — well, 
it  is  difficult  to  explain. ' ' 

"If  I  can  be  of  any  help  to  you  in  any  way 
of  course  I  shall  be  delighted,"  said  Gerald, 
repressing  one  of  the  very  few  inclinations  to 
giggle  which  he  had  ever  felt. 

' '  I — I  love  your  sister, ' '  burst  out  Muirhead 
at  last,  stopping  in  the  road  and  looking  nerv- 
ously round  him  to  be  sure  that  no  one  was 
near,  and  then  glancing  suspiciously  at  Gerald 
to  see  if  he  was  going  to  laugh.  "I  have  loved 
her  for  years.  I  have  said  nothing  to  her  yet. 
I  am  afraid.  Do  you  think — do  you  know — has 
she  ever  spoken  to  you  about  me?" 

"Very  often,  of  course,"  said  Gerald  gravely, 
"but  notjjuite  in  the  way  you  mean." 

"Naturally  she  wouldn't,"  said  the  man 
hastily;  "of  course  not.  But  your  aunt;  per- 
haps she  has?" 

"Oh,  no." 

"Well,  well  .  .  .  there  is  another  little 
point  ,  .  .  you  yourself  ,  .  .of  course 


no  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

Miss  Franklin  would  think  much  of  your 
opinion.  Will  you  support  me?" 

"Certainly,  most  certainly."  Promises  of 
this  kind  cost  nothing,  and  Gerald  would  have 
made  a  score  of  them  quite  cheerfully. 

"Do  you  think  yourself  that  I  have  any 
chance  of  success?" 

"Really,"  said  the  lad,  happy  to  be  able  to 
laugh  outright,  "I  know  nothing  at  all.  My 
sister  and  I  talk  so  little  together.  I  am 
always  busy. ' ' 

"Yes,  you  and  Marshall  have  become  very 
close  friends  lately.  And  now  you  are  going. 
I  am  sorry,  my  lad. ' ' 

' '  I  shall  be  very  sorry  for  many  reasons  to  go, ' ' 
said  Gerald,  speaking  sincerely  for  once.  "I  have 
been  happy  here  and  successful.  And  I  owe  much 
of  my  success  to  you.  I  do  not  forget  that. ' ' 

"I  am  glad  you  think  of  that  still.  And  now 
one  more  question,  Franklin.  Tell  me  can- 
didly; you  will  be  open  with  me,  won't  you? 
since  you  recognise  that  I  have  done  some- 
thing for  you.  I  ask  you — you  who  are  in 
Marshall's  confidence  so  much  more  than 
myself" — the  man's  sudden  humility  was  hor- 
rible to  look  at — "is  anything  going  wrong 
with  the  Freehold?  I  have  everything  I  pos- 
sess in  it.  I  have  put  several  very  great 
friends  in  it.  I  am  not  over-particular  of 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  in 

course" — the  man  laughed  uneasily — "but  one 
draws  the  line  at  deceiving  certain  people. 
Pray  tell  me  if  you  know  anything  wrong. ' ' 

"What  should  be  wrong?  Why  should  you 
think  so?" 

"Several  little  things,  and  then  Robinson's 
sale  of  all  his  shares.  .  .  ." 

"He  is  speculating,  I  suppose.  He  sells  now 
and  hopes  to  get  in  again  at  a  lower  price. 
There  is  nothing  in  the  world  wrong,  I  assure 
you.  Pray  don't  suggest  such  a  thing  by  word 
or  look  elsewhere.  It  is  quite  a  mistake,  as  we 
could  easily  show,  but  the  directors  would  be 
very  angry. ' ' 

"Then  I  will  turn  back  and  say  good-bye. 
Thank  you  for  your  promises  of  help.  Of 
course  I  will  advise  your  aunt  as  you  wish 
to-morrow.  Good-bye,  lad." 

To-morrow  afternoon,  thought  Muirhead,  as 
he  walked  homewards,  he  would  end  the  sus- 
pense, put  his  question  to  Monica,  and  know 
the  best  or  worst.  After  all  there  was  some 
hope  for-  him.  He  was  apparently  a  trusted 
adviser  at  Hartshill,  a  family  friend,  and  there 
was  hope.  Even  from  Gerald's  assurances  he 
managed  to  draw  encouragement.  To  have 
an  only  brother,  of  whom  a  girl  must  surely  be 
fond,  strongly  on  your  side,  mattered  much. 
His  heart  grew  lighter  and  his  step  brisker 


112  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

every  moment,  till  by  the  time  he  reached  his 
rooms  he  was  almost  laughing  to  himself  with 
delight.  If  he  were  accepted,  if  he  returned 
here  to-morrow  evening  engaged  to  Monica 
Franklin,  would  not  life  be  blissful!  He 
thought  of  numberless  little  points,  the  gold 
mine  shares  which  were  now  daily  increasing 
in  value,  the  assured  alliance  with  Gerald  who 
was  now  in  the  inner  cabinet  of  the  biggest  and 
richest  speculation  of  modern  times ;  but  above 
every  such  minor  gain,  in  front  of  the  picture 
of  wealth  and  success  which  floated  before  him, 
rose  the  vision  of  Monica's  fair  grave  face.  To 
see  those  grave  grey  eyes  with  love-light  in 
them  looking  into  his!  to  put  his  arms  round 
the  tall  lithe  form  and  whisper  love- words  into 
willing  ears,  and  with  lips  close  to  his  sweet- 
heart's cheek!  ...  A  passion  of  love  and 
longing  tore  the  man's  soul  within  him  as  he 
thought.  The  room  stifled  him,  and  he  went 
out  of  doors  and  walked  along  country  roads 
with  clenched  hands  and  exclamations  of  tor- 
tured doubt  and  hope,  and  even  prayer.  He 
must  succeed  to-morrow!  he  would  succeed! 
For  success  here  he  would  make  all  sacrifices, 
use  all  means.  The  far-off  boom  of  St. 
George's  clock  striking  midnight  reached  him 
as  he  walked.  In  twenty  hours  at  most  he 
would  know  his  fate ! 


CHAPTER  XIII 

Gerald  Franklin  was  resolved  to  be  rich. 
When  he  was  twelve  years  old  he  had  deter- 
mined to  make  a  fortune,  and  had  begun  at 
once.  He  studied  politics,  the  money-markets 
of  the  world,  the  problems  of  taxation,  and 
even  the  morality  of  certain  trades  and  peoples. 
The  latter  subject  interested  him  peculiarly, 
and  he  had  argued  out  the  conclusion  (in 
rather  remarkable  fashion  for  a  boy  of  his  age) 
that  financial  credit  is  necessary  for  any  big 
success,  and  that  such  credit  is  dependent  on 
strict  commercial  and  national  honesty.  He 
was  pleased  at  first  to  find  himself  in  such  a 
business  as  the  Freehold.  Marshall's  admira- 
tion and  confidence  flattered  him,  turned  his 
head  so  far  and  for  as  long  a  time  as  such  an 
extremely  well-screwed-on  young  head  could 
be  turned.  Then  came  discovery  after  dis- 
covery, and  with  it  disillusion  and  disgust. 
The  boy  had  all  the  commercial  instincts 
developed  through  generations  of  trading 
ancestors,  and  as  the  nose  of  a  Perigord  pig 
has  an  instinct  for  finding  truffles  which  no 
113 


114  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

amount  of  modern  science  can  give  to  a  man, 
so  Gerald  began  life  with  an  hereditary  capacity 
for  picking  essential  facts  out  of  a  maze  of 
figures  which  marked  him  out  for  work  of  his 
present  kind.  Lessons  given  partly  by  Muir- 
head,  chiefly  by  himself  to  himself,  had  per- 
fected nature's  work,  and  the  lad  at  the  age  of 
sixteen  had  dropped  into  the  middle  of  Mar- 
shall's work  with  an  amount  of  knowledge 
which  a  chartered  accountant  in  the  thick  of 
City  work  might  envy,  and  a  judgment  whose 
sound  acumen  many  a  hundred  members  of 
that  profession  might  desire.  He  took  in  the 
whole  business  of  the  Freehold  in  a  year, 
brushed  aside  its  pretence  of  philanthropy, 
glanced  down  its  (intentionally)  confused  and 
confusing  mass  of  figures  with  a  contemptuous 
smile,  and  so  recognising  perfectly  well  where 
he  was  and  able  to  make  a  pretty  good  guess 
at  what  his  masters  were  coming  to  and  when 
the)T  would  arrive,  he  sat  down  to  consider  his 
position. 

The  more  he  considered  it  the  less  he  liked 
it.  The  subordinates  in  the  Company,  school- 
masters, clergy  of  all  denominations,  insurance- 
agents,  commercial  travellers  and  such-like, 
who  were  all  paid  a  commission  on  the  capital 
which  they  brought  in,  were  a  noisy  horde  of 
.plunderers,  unscrupulous,  ignorant  and  risky  to 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  115 

deal  with.  Their  immediate  superiors,  the 
men  who  reduced  this  mass  of  work  to  order, 
were  half-educated  men  performing  a  purely 
mechanical  task,  understanding  very  little  of 
that,  and  doing  it  for  the  most  part  very  badly. 
Of  the  four  or  five  men  at  the  head  of  affairs 
Gerald  only  knew  one,  but  from  certain  signs 
he  judged  that  they  were  not  working  together 
very  harmoniously  or  cleverly.  Contrary 
orders  came  down  to  Newcastle  very  often; 
papers  marked  "private  and  confidential" 
arrived  one  day  from  the  Freehold,  and  their 
duplicates  came  by  the  next  post  from  some 
allied  company  without  any  such  mark.7  At 
any  rate  disaster  was  a  mere  matter  of  a  few 
months. 

So  thought  Gerald,  vexedly  and  doubtingly, 
as  he  sat  considering  Marshall's  offer  of  the 
London  clerkship.  Yet  he  decided  to  accept 
it.  A^  foothold  in  London  was  worth  some- 
thing. He  would  go  there  reckoning  that  the 
Company  would  last  a  year,  that  he  must 
plunder  it  of  all  that  he  could  safely  get  duiing 
that  time  and  have  another  situation  ready  for 
himself  to  step  into  when  the  crash  came. 
There  were  probably  some  very  pretty  pick- 
ings to  be  had  at  those  offices  in  Southampton 
Row  during  the  next  twelve  months.  As  for 
Muirhead,  he  must  take  his  luck,  To  warn 


1 1 6  Resolved  to  be  Rich  , 

one's  friends  tinder  such  circumstances  was  the 
act  of  a  fool.  Clearly  Muirhead  had  better  not 
marry  Monica,  but  the  boy  had  paid  just 
enough  attention  to  his  sister's  talk  to  have  his 
own  opinion  about  the  probability  of  such  an 
event.  It  was  necessary  to  encourage  and  sym- 
pathise with  Muirhead  in  order  that  this  family 
council  about  himself  might  pass  off  smoothly, 
but  he  believed  and  hoped  that  Monica  had  no 
more  intention  of  marrying  Muirhead  than  of 
marrying  Canon  Hobart. 

To  his  own  secret  amusement  Gerald  found 
that  the  family  council  on  this  Saturday  after- 
noon was  a  very  serious  affair.  Mr  Lowe  and 
Dr.  Hare  had  been  invited  as  well  as  Muir- 
head. Miss  Christina  had  put  on  her  best 
black  silk  dress ;  fresh  piclates  and  a  cake  had 
been  ordered  for  tea.  "Are  there  any  pro- 
grammes?" he  asked  Monica.  "Shall  I  have 
to  make  a  speech?  and,  I  say,  old  girl,  tell  me 
— if  the  council  decides  against  my  going  to 
London — how  am  I  to  break  it  to  them  that  I 
am  going  in  any  case?"  But  Monica  ran  away 
to  dress. 

Dr.  Hare  arrived  at  four  o'clock,  bluff  and 
kindly  as  usual.  He  was  a  disbeliever  in  the 
Freehold,  and  scoffed  at  it  publicly  and 
privately  though  he  had  no  better  reason  for 
doing  so  than  a  strong  personal  dislike  of  Luke 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  117 

Robinson.  "He  is  a  good  preacher,  I  dare- 
say," said  the  doctor,  "though,  from  what 
people  tell  me,  a  mere  gas-pipe  with  nothing 
real  to  say.  And  if  you  have  nothing  to  say 
what  is  the  good  of  saying  it  well?" 

"But  in  any  case  what  has  that  got  to  do 
with  this  Company?"  asked  Lowe. 

"Well,  if  I  want  an  investment  for  my 
money  I  ask  a  man  who  deals  in  money,  not  a 
man  who  spouts  bad — or  even  good — theology. 
If  I  wanted  some  gas-shares  now  I  might  think 
of  going  to  Robinson  about  them  .  .  .  !" 

"You  don't  like  his  politics,  doctor?"  said 
Lowe,  while  Muirhead  looked  at  the  speaker 
with  some  alarm. 

"Give  you  my  word  I  don't  know  what  they 
are,"  said  Hare.  "Well,  yes,  I  do  just  know. 
He  possesses — or  professes — Liberal  opinions, 
I  believe." 

"He-is  very  active  on  the  Liberal  side,"  said 
Lowe. 

"He  is,"  retorted  Hare.  "Now  you  come  to 
mention  it  I  remember  a  story  about  one  of  his 
evening  meetings  in  the  Hanley  Road  chapel  at 
the  last  election.  He  was  praying  and  said: 
'May  the  Liberal  party  all  hang  together  at  this 
great  crisis.'  'Amen,'  said  a  voice  in  the  hall 
very  emphatically.  'Not,  oh  Lord,'  went  on 
Robinson,  'in  the  sense  meant  by  the  bias- 


Il8  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

phemous  scoffer  down  there,  but  in  peace  and 
concord  and  accord.'  'I  don't  much  mind,' 
said  the  voice  again,  'what  kind  of  a  cord  it's 
in  so  long  as  it's  all  together. '  After  which 
the  prayer  passed  rather  quickly  to  other  sub- 
jects!" 

"His  influence  is  immense,"  insisted  Lowe, 
with  a  little  sigh,  almost  of  envy;  "and  I 
really  believe  he  means  to  use  it  well." 

"Oh,  every  one  swears  by  him  and  sings  his 
praises,"  said  Hare,  "because  he  swears  by 
himself  and  sings  his  own  praises.  Old  Mother 
Eardly  began  the  other  day,  while  I  was  pre- 
scribing for  her  daughter,  glorifying  him  up  to 
the  skies.  'I  speak  so  strongly,'  she  said  at 
last,  'because  I  know  him  so  well.'  I  said: 
'Madam,  I  don't  know  him,  but  damn  him  at  a 
venture. '  Forgive  me,  my  dear  Miss  Bertram. 
Only  a  quotation  from  Lamb,  you  know;  I 
wouldn't  dream  of  using  such  words  myself!" 

"I  have  a  little  matter  of  business  which  I 
wanted  to  ask  you  about,"  said  Miss  Christina 
rather  severely;  and  at  this  opening  of  the 
proceedings  every  one  took  their  seats  and 
listened  attentively  to  the  speaker,  for  whom 
indeed  every  one  present  had  a  most  real 
affection  and  respect.  "My  nephew,  Gerald, 
has  received  an  offer  from  Mr.  Marshall  to 
come  up  to  the  headquarters  of  the  Freehold 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  119 

Building  Society  as  clerk  with  £400  a  year. 
He  would  begin  work  next  month.  I  want 
advice  about  the  offer.  Mr.  Muirhead,  who 
knows  Mr.  Marshall  very  well,  has  a  very 'high 
opinion  of  him"  (it  was  curious  to  see  how  the 
poor  woman  tried  at  the  same  time  to  do  jus- 
tice to  Marshall,  and  yet  to  dissociate  herself 
from  him ;  while  over  his  name  each  time  that 
it  occurred  she  hesitated  for  a  moment  as  if 
not  quite  certain  how  far  its  pronouncement 
might  involve  herself  in  telling  a  lie) ;  "but  of 
course  to  send  Gerald  alone  up  to  London  is  a 
very  serious  step." 

"It  is  a  good  position,"  said  Lowe  thought- 
fully, after  a  pause;  "very  good.  Four  hun- 
dred pounds  a  year!  And  Gerald  only  just 
eighteen!" 

'_!What  does  the  lad  himself  think  about  it?" 
asked  Hare. 

"I  should  like  to  accept  it,"  said  Gerald 
simply.  The  boy's  power  of  playing  the  hypo- 
crite was  really  remarkable.  Even  Monica 
thought  for  a  moment  that  he  was  a  little  anx- 
ious about  the  result  of  the  conference,  and 
would  recognise  its  decision  as  binding. 

Miss  Bertram  looked  at  Dr.  Hare,  her  glance 
seeming  to  say,  "I  suppose  there  is  an  explo- 
sion coming.  You  may  blow  up  now  if  you 
like."  But  to  her  surprise  the  doctor  sat  silent 


I2O  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

and  grave.  When  at  last  he  spoke  it  was  very 
quietly. 

"I  do  not  like  the  Company,"  he  said.  "I 
disbelieve  in  its  philanthropy.  'Charity,'  said 
St.  Paul,  who  did  not  live  in  the  days  of  news- 
papers, 'is  not  puffed  up* ;  and  I  prefer  charities 
on  the  Pauline  lines.  Partly  for  that  reason, 
and  partly  because  I  dislike  all  its  managers,  of 
course  except  Mr.  Muirhead" — the  doctor 
glanced  across  at  Muirhead,  and  his  eyes 
changed  the  "except"  into  "especially" — "I 
disbelieve  in  its  financial  soundness,  too.  But 
I  recognise  with  regret — I  admit  it  openly, 
with  regret — that  I  have  no  facts  or  figures  to 
back  my  opinion.  It  is  therefore  worth 
nothing. ' ' 

"Whatever  you  may  think  it  worth  I  value  it 
very  highly,"  said  Miss  Bertram,  pleased  to 
find  a  man  of  the  world's  opinion  at  one  with 
her  own  feminine  instinct.  "What  do  you 
think,  Mr.  Lowe?" 

"Gerald  is  young,  very  young  indeed,  to  go 
up  to  London  by  himself,  though  of  course  we 
could  minimise  the  danger  by  introducing  him 
to  friends  and  finding  him  a  good  home.  Apart 
from  those  dangers — and  we  must  remember 
that  Gerald  is  not  the  first  who  has  gone  up 
from  a  country  life  to  encounter  them,  nor  is 
he  as  young  as  some  others  who  go — apart 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  121 

from  these,  I  cannot  imagine  a  more  desirable 
opening.  I  cannot  see  any  reason  for  refusing 
such  an  offer,  and  we  really  must  have  solid 
reasons  for  doing  such  a  thing." 

"And  you,  Mr.  Muirhead?"  As  Miss  Ber- 
tram turned  to  his  friend  Gerald  suddenly 
thought  what  an  extremely  awkward  thing  it 
would  have  been,  at  any  rate  for  the  moment, 
if  he  had  not  succeeded  in  "squaring"  Muir- 
head yesterday;  and  the  latter  had  now  pro- 
ceeded to  tell  about  that  letter  to  London 
accepting  the  clerkship. 

' '  I  can  only  express  my  entire  agreement  with 
Mr.  Lowe,"  was  the  answer.  "Dr.  Hare 
admits  that  his  distrust  of  the  Company  is  a 
mere  personal  dislike  of  its  managers.  I 
know>  .and  can  say  positively  as  regards  its 
financial  position,  that  he  has  no  grounds  for 
his  mistrust.  I  shall  be  very  sorry  to  part  with 
Gerald,  but  I  certainly  think  that  he  should 
go." 

"I  confess  to  sharing  some  of  Dr.  Hare's 
prejudices,"  said  Miss  Bertram ;  "yet  I  do  not 
think  they  ought  to  stand  in  Gerald's  way." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence,  then  a  little 
desultory  talk  about  friends  in  London,  and 
then  Miss  Bertram  gave  her  decision:  "I  think 
I  ought  to  let  him  go.  Yes,  we  must  accept." 

There  was  another  and  much  longer  silence. 


122  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

The  room  seemed  heavy  with  fatality;  the 
decision  was  weighing  on  the  minds  of  all  as 
something  of  peculiar  and  uncomprehended 
importance.  No  one  seemed  willing  to  speak, 
till  at  last  Miss  Bertram  told  Monica  to  order 
tea. 

"Very  sorry  I  can't  stay  a  bit  longer,  Miss 
Bertram,"  said  Dr.  Hare,  jumping  up  with  a 
deep  breath  as  of  relief  from  some  oppression ; 
"but  I  must  be  off  to  a  case.  Your  piclates — I 
feel  sure  you  are  going  to  have  piclates — would 
tempt  a  man  to  risk  his  own  life,  but  one  can't 
risk  one's  neighbours!  Good-bye.  And  good- 
bye and  good  luck  to  you,  Gerald.  I  start  on 
my  holiday  on  Monday,  so  I  shan't  see  you  again 
before  you  begin  your  London  work.  Good 
luck  to  you — fame  and  fortune,  health,  wealth 
and  wisdom !  Good-bye.  We  shall  meet  again 
sometime.  I  wonder  when  and  where?" 

When  and  where !  If  those  pictures  of  the 
future  which  now  and  again  we  conjure  so 
gaily  to  come  before  us  obeyed  us  occasionally 
and  came,  what  a  horrible  tragedy  they  would 
make  of  these  light-hearted  moments! 


CHAPTER    XIV 

Mr.  Lowe  went  away  immediately  after  tea, 
and  with  sudden  terror  Muirhead  realised  that 
fate  was  giving  him  the  opportunity  for  which 
yesterday  he  had  professed  to  be  anxious.  He 
was  only  anxious  now  to  escape,  but  he  knew 
that  he  would  despise  himself  to-night  if  he 
failed  in  his  resolution ;  and  besides,  his  passage 
through  this  fearful  ordeal  was  now  but  a 
matter  of  a  few  weeks.  After  Gerald's 
departure  his  excuses  for  visiting  Hartshill 
would  be  rare.  And  now  he  was  alone  with 
Monica  in  the  garden;  they  were  moving 
towards  a  summer-house  which  they  could 
easily  enter,  and  so  be  out  of  sight.  Muirhead 
felt  first  that  he  would  be  insane  not  to  make 
use  of  such  a  chance ;  secondly,  that  he  would 
give  a  year's  income  to  see  some  one  appear 
and  interrupt  him.  But  no  one  appeared,  and 
already  he  and  Monica  had  turned  the  corner 
of  some  lilac-bushes  and  were  out  of  sight  of 
the  house. 

"Gerald's  departure  will  be  a  great  loss  to 
me,"  he  began,  and  then  thought  vaguely  that 
he  had  said  that  once,  twice,  three  times  before 
123 


124  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

during  the  afternoon.  But  his  head  was  throb- 
bing violently;  he  felt  as  if  his  brain  were 
turning  round  and  round ;  he  could  not  think 
or  see,  and  could  hardly  speak  coherently. 

"It  will  be  a  loss  for  him  to  leave  you,"  said 
the  girl,  forcing  herself  to  be  cordial,  yet 
meaning  what  she  said  too.  She  quite  believed 
that  Muirhead  had  been  her  brother's  bene- 
factor and  best  friend.  Then  the  man's  agita- 
tion made  itself  perceptible  to  her  by  some 
means,  and  a  nameless  indefinable  alarm  crept 
into  her  mind. 

"You  really  think  that  this  appointment  of 
Gerald's  is  a  good  thing  for  him?"  she  asked, 
her  anxiety  at  once  fixing  itself  on  the  topic  of 
the  afternoon. 

"Oh,  yes,  yes,  certainly.  His  absence  will 
leave  you  dull. ' ' 

"It  will  not  make  much  difference.  Gerald 
has  been  so  absorbed  in  his  work  lately  that  he 
has  not  shared  our  occupations  much." 

He  had  planned  the  conversation  out  yester- 
day evening  quite  satisfactorily — what  he  was 
to  say,  and  what  she  was  to  answer;  but  her 
answers  were  all  wrong,  and  what  could  he  do? 
He  had  a  half-formed  irritable  desire  to 
reproach  her  for.  this,  and  to  ask  her  how  the 
matter  could  get  any  further  if  she  would  not 
give  the  right  cues. 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  125 

"I  thought  you  would  have  missed  him 
more,"  he  began,  and  as  he  had  no  idea  how 
bitterly  reproachful  his  voice  sounded,  he  was 
puzzled  by  the  girl's  little  laugh  and  stare  of 
surprise.  But  seeing  them  he  pulled  himself 
together  and  went  on  with  more  resolution. 
"However,  it  was  something  else  I  wanted  to 
say  to  you.  His  going  away  makes  me  fear 
that  I  shall  not  be  able  to  come  here  so  often. 
My  visits  lately,  for  a  year  or  more  past" — 
why  did  his  miserable  voice  desert  him  in  this 
hour  of  need  and  become  loud,  husky  and 
monotonous? — "have  not  been  to  .  .  :  ." 
altogether  on  his  account." 

"Haven't  they?"  she  asked  in  low,  fright- 
ened tones;  but  he  had  meant  her  to  ask  that 
question  just  here,  and  did  not  notice  the  fear 
in  her  voic€,  and  was  glad. 

"No,  indeed,  it  was  you  I  wanted  to  see.  I 
do  not  know  how  long  it  is  since  I  have  been 
thinking  of  you  all  day,  scheming  to  try  and 
see  you,  hoping  that  you  cared  a  little  bit  to 
see  me.  Monica,  I  love  you!  I  love 
you!"  .  .  . 

He  had  prepared  a  much  longer  speech  than 
that,  about  sympathy,  his  own  ambitions  and 
prospects,  about  her  aunt  and  a  score  of  other 
matters,  but  it  all  ended  in  that  cry:  "I  love 
you!"  To  see  the  girl  standing  there  with  her 


126  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

eyes  cast  down,  her  long  eyelashes  lying  on  the 
cheeks  from  which  pink  glows  were  coming  and 
going,  her  lips  quivering,  and  hands  clasping 
and  unclasping  in  front  of  her,  made  him  mad 
with  sudden  hope.  He  held  his  breath  after 
those  last  words,  and  as  the  girl  kept  silence, 
he  at  last  put  out  his  hand  and  tried  to  take 
hers.  But  she  drew  it  away  immediately  and 
decisively,  and  his  breath  came  out  in  a  quick 
"Monica!"  wherein  was  questioning  anxiety. 
She  spoke  at  last  in  answer  to  it. 

"It  is  very — kind  of  you  to  like  me  so  much. 
I  did  not  know.  .  .  ." 

"Did  not  know!  Oh!  I  should  not  have 
thought  you  could  help  knowing!" 

"Indeed  I  did  not  know,  or  I  would  have 
tried  to  show  you — I  would  have  told  you 
somehow  that  it  was  no  use." 

*'Nouse!" 

"I  am  very  sorry." 

"I  love  you,  Monica!  I  could  make  you 
happy  if  you  would  marry  me.  You  must 
.  .  .  you  surely  will.  .  .  ."  The  man 
began  to  stammer  and  talk  wildly. 

"I  could  not  marry  you,  Mr.  Muirhead. " 

"You  don't  mean  that,"  he  said  almost 
roughly.  "You  have  not  had  time  to  think.  I 
implore  you  to  think  a  little.  You  will 
see.  ," 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  127 

"It  would  be  no  good  to  think.  Indeed  I 
could  not  marry  you." 

Muirhead  stood  silent.  The  beginning  of  a 
great  despair  was  dawning  in  his  eyes,  which 
were  faxed  on  the  girl  with  a  look  which  fright- 
ened her  and  made  her  move  away.  The 
movement  more  than  her  words  seemed  to 
rouse  the  man  to  a  sense  of  his  repulse.  He 
flung  up  his  hands  in  a  gesture  of  half-insane 
misery  and  turned  away. 

"I  am  very  sorry,"  murmured  Monica  again. 
Like  most  girls  in  her  position,  she  could  not  let 
bad  alone  without  some  attempt  to  make  it  worse. 

"Sorry!"  The  man  turned  back  to  her,  and 
she  looked  with  terror  at  his  passion-distorted 
face.  "Why  do  you  say  you  are  sorry?  Does 
it  mean  .-<"  .  do  you  mean  that  you  will 
let  me  hope  a  little?" 

"Oh,  no." 

"There  is  no  hope  for  me?" 

"I  could  not  marry  you,"  repeated  the  girl, 
half-wishing  that  she  could  find  some  other 
words  which  might  sound  less  blankly  repel- 
ling. After  all  she  could  not  feel  particularly 
annoyed  with  the  man  for  being  in  love  with 
her.  Why  should  she? 

"It  is  absurd  to  say  you  could  not.  Of 
course  you  could,"  answered  Muirhead,  com- 
ing nearer,  and  his  eyes  flashed  with  excite- 


128  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

ment    and    anger.      "What   is    the    obstacle? 
There  must  be  some,  I  know." 

Becoming  nervous  Monica  turned  and  began 
to  walk  homewards,  but  the  man  put  himself 
in  her  way.  There  was  a  strained  smile,  hor- 
rible to  look  at,  on  his  face. 

"You  like  some  one  else  better.  Who  is  it?" 
he  asked,  and  at  the  question  and  his  interfer- 
ence with  her  movements  the  girl  grew  first 
more  frightened  and  then  angry. 

"Let  me  go  home,  please,"  she  said,  a  little 
flush  of  angry  red  coming  into  her  cheeks.  "It 
is" — she  stammered  over  the  word,  but  was  evi- 
dently trying  to  deprecate  a  quarrel — "kind  of 
you  to  want  to  marry  me,  but  I  have  answered 
no.  That  must  end  it,  please." 

"End  it!"  he  answered,  with  a  tone  and 
gesture  of  despair  which  were  rather  fine  in 
their  abandonment  of  tragedy.  "You  tell  me 
to  'end'  my  life  coolly  indeed.  I  have  won 
position,  money,  respect,  here,  and  thought  I 
should  be  contented,  and  they  are  all  nothing 
to  me.  All  my  life  is  nothing  to  me. 
Oh,  Monica !  Monica,  dear !  they  are  nothing  if 
I  may  not  have  your  love  too!  Give  me  a 
little  bit  of  hope!" 

She  shook  her  head,  shrinking  away  from 
him  in  alarm,  and  again  her  movement  seemed 
to  fill  the  man  with  a  fury  of  despair. 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  129 

4 'It  is  Nicholson!"  he  cried  out  suddenly — he 
had  resolved  a  hundred  times  yesterday  that  in 
no  case  would  he  mention  his  rival's  name,  but 
a  passion  to  know  the  worst  was  on  him — "it 
is  that  young  Nicholson  who  has  killed  my  life, 
who  has  taken  you  away.  Isn't  it  so?  Oh! 
but  he  shall  not  do  it!  I  came  first!  You 
were  mine  first!" 

At  the  mention  of  her  lover's  name  Monica 
grew  angrily  scarlet,  and  the  pity  and  fear 
alike  left  her  eyes. 

"We  have  talked  enough  about  this,"  she 
said.  "I  cannot  imagine  what  .  . 
what  Mr.  Nicholson  has  got  to  do  with  it.  Let 
me  pass,  please."  And  as  the  man,  after  a 
second's  hesitation,  let  her  go  by,  she  walked 
up  the  path  with  head  erect  and  flaming 
cheeks.  Turning  a  corner  of  the  path  she 
looked  back  through  a  rose-bush  which  con- 
cealed her,  and  saw  Muirhead  still  standing 
there,  his  arms  hanging  by  his  side,  his  face 
turned  towards  her,  his  shoulders  bent. 


CHAPTER   XV 

To  hate  anybody  night  and  day  with  all  your 
heart  and  soul,  to  hate  him  so  that  the  one 
desire  of  your  life  is  to  hurt  him  mind  and 
body,  present  and  future,  pocket,  brain,  and 
flesh,  to  hate  him  so  that  you  would  be  sorry 
to  hear  of  his  death  because  it  would  put  an 
end  to  your  plans  for  his  torture — this  is  a 
vigorous  but  unhealthy  exercise.  It  brings 
into  play  all  your  wits  (and  sometimes 
muscles),  but  it  takes  away  your  appetite,  is 
bad  for  your  digestion,  and  is  too  absorbing  a 
pastime  for  a  man  who  is  otherwise  and  busily 
occupied.  To  hate  anybody  like  this  is,  in 
fact,  apart  from  the  morality  of  the  thing,  a 
blunder. 

Poor  Sampson  Muirhead,  however,  did  not 
realise  this,  or  perhaps  he  did  not  argue  about 
the  matter  at  all,  or  perhaps  he  thought  (which 
is  a  great  mistake)  that  love  and  hate  are 
beyond  one's  control;  for  he  consecrated  the 
next  few  weeks  to  a  passion  of  loathing  for 
Reggie  Nicholson  which  annihilated  every 
other  feeling  and  faculty  in  him.  A  rival  and 
130 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  131 

a  successful  rival! — the  knowledge  that  Nichol- 
son was  in  love  with  Monica  and  she  with  him, 
that  they  were  together  constantly  and  per- 
fectly happy  together,  and  probably  only  happy 
when  they  were  together,  had  lain  in  a  little 
cell  of  his  brain  unrealised,  kept  back,  for 
weeks  past.  Now  it  flamed  into  life,  stared 
him  in  the  face  like  a  hideous  garish  picture 
thrust  suddenly  before  his  eyes,  and  he  could 
think  of  nothing  else.  Again  and  again  after 
his  own  rejection  he  saw  them  together,  and 
each  time  wondered  how  he  could  have  been  so 
blind  before  as  not  to  see  that  the  two  were 
lovers,  and  happy  lovers,  united  in  thoughts, 
hope,  sjTnpathy,  love  ...  in  love!  At 
the  recollection  he  would  fling  down  pens  and 
papers  if  he  were  at  work,  food  if  he  were  at 
meals,  books  if  he  were  trying  to  occupy  his 
mind  with  them,  and  start  up  from  his  chair 
sick  with  fury.  Presently — it  was  but  three 
weeks  after  his  own  proposal,  but  to  this  man 
living  in  hell  it  might  have  been  three  hundred 
years — he  heard  from  Gerald  that  the  two  were 
engaged. 

"Awfully  sorry  she  wouldn't  have  you,"  said 
the  boy,  watching  Muirhead  with  a  slightly 
amused  smile;  love  was  not  one  of  humanity's 
passions  of  which  Mr.  Gerald  Franklin  took 
much  account;  "but  it's  just  a  matter  of  a 


132  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

whim  with  these  girls,  you  know.  They  never 
have  any  sense. ' ' 

"Miss  Bertram  has  consented?"  The  man 
standing  at  the  window  could  just  control  his 
lips  sufficiently  to  ask  the  question. 

"Oh,  yes.  Old  Nicholson  came  over  and 
saw  her,  and  they  have  arranged  the  business 
quite  happily.  He  is  to  take  his  son  into  his 
business  at  once,  and  into  partnership  next 
year.  So  you  will  have  another  vacancy  here 
to  fill.  I  daresay  you  have  forgotten  your  own 
admiration  for  her  by  this  time,  so  you  must 
come  over  and  congratulate  her.  Oh,  here  is 
the  happy  youth.  Come  in,  Nicholson,  I  was 
just  telling  Muirhead  about  you  and  my  sister. 
He  wants  to  congratulate  you." 

Work  being  a  little  slack,  Gerald  was  not 
busy  and  wanted  some  amusement.  From 
stories  which  he  had  heard  and  by  accident 
read  now  and  again,  he  understood  that  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  such  amusement  might  be 
extracted  from  a  conversation  between  a  suc- 
cessful and  an  unsuccessful  lover  about  the 
young  lady  who  was  the  object  of  their  joint 
affections.  That  the  young  lady  in  the  present 
case  happened  to  be  his  own  sister  did  not 
occur  to  him  as  a  reason  for  foregoing  the 
amusement. 

But  he  was  not   destined  to  extract  much 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  133 

from  the  present  situation.  There  comes  a 
point  of  suffering  when  an  all-merciful  nature 
says  to  us:  "You  cannot  bear  this  any  longer; 
come  away  with  me ;  let  me  take  your  mind 
out  of  that  torture-environment  for  a  while  to 
a  far-off  world  of  sun-lit  skies  and  babbling 
water  and  rest.  .  .  . "  And  so  another  turn 
is  given  to  the  rack,  another  twist  to  the 
thumb-screw;  muscles  writhe,  nerves  vibrate 
with  agony  before  the  torturers'  smiling  faces ; 
but  the  writhings  and  outcries  mean  nothing, 
for  the  man's  mind  is  elsewhere  and  perfectly 
happy,  ^t  was  so  now  with  Muirhead.  Sud- 
denly and  for  a  little  while  something  in  his 
brain  gave  a  great  throb  and  tear,  and  then 
hung  limp  and  sensationless  like  a  certain  kind 
of  wire  which  you  pull  to  a  strong  straining 
point  at  which  it  suddenly  becomes  as  slack 
and  tearable  as  a  long  thread  of  glue.  He 
glanced  round  the  room  with  a  slight  smile, 
nodded  to  Nicholson,  murmured  something 
about  going  into  Stoke  for  an  hour,  and  so  left 
the  office. 

Once  outside  he  walked  on  and  on,  he  knew 
not  where  or  for  how  long.  Sometimes  he  sat 
down  under  a  tree  and  picked  bits  of  grass  and 
bound  them  together  and  held  up  the  plait  in 
front  of  him  with  soft  pleased  laughter.  Once 
he  noticed  two  or  three  passers-by  staring  at 


134  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

him,  and,  considering  the  cause,  found  that  he 
was  singing  a  psalm — the  "De  Profundis" — 
which  he  had  not  heard,  he  supposed,  for  fif- 
teen years.  Once  he  heard  a  station-bell  ring, 
and  stopping  to  wonder  where  he  was,  found 
himself  at  Great  Bridgeford,  nearing  Stafford, 
and  so  mechanically  turned  back.  Then  he 
found  himself  sitting  in  a  church  in  which 
some  one  was  reading  prayers,  and  a  few 
people  began  to  sing  a  hymn.  It  was  not  till 
then  that  he  really  awoke  to  reality — awoke 
with  a  vague  stare  round  him,  and  a  muttered 
exclamation  or  two,  like  a  man  returning  to 
life  after  chloroform.  The  whole  scene  was 
quite  strange  to  him — church,  people,  and 
clergyman.  He  did  not  know  where  he  was, 
or  how  long  he  had  been  there ;  in  his  hand  he 
held  a  few  wild  flowers,  but  had  no  idea  when 
or  where  he  had  picked  them.  He  had  left 
the  Freehold  offices  this  morning  after  reading 
certain  letters  and  hearing  some  news  of  some- 
thing; since  then  the  hours  were  a  dreadful 
blank,  a  nothing,  a  hideous  vacuum  of  which 
memory  could  not  fill  one  single  moment. 
The  thought  frightened  him  horribly;  nothing 
in  his  life  had  ever  filled  him  with  so  much 
fear  as  this  sudden  stoppage  of  memory  and 
brain-action.  He  looked  at  his  watch ;  it  was 
past  seven  o'clock,  and  he  must  have  left  the 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  135 

office  this  morning  at  ten  or  soon  after.  Nine 
hours  in  a  world  of  which  he  knew  nothing 
beforehand  and  could  remember  nothing  now! 
.  .  .  A  short  fainting-fit  frightens  many  of 
us;  a  sleeping-draught  which  will  plunge  us 
into  unconsciousness  for  several  hours  is  a 
terror  to  many  people ;  the  chief  dread  of  death 
lies  in  our  ignorance  of  what  the  grim  passage 
is  like  and  whither  it  leads.  What  had  he  done 
to  his  brain  that  it  should  play  him  a  trick  like 
that?  Would  it  play  him  another  at  any  time, 
in  any  place  that  it  chose?  The  man's  face 
grew  ashen  grey,  a  cold  sweat  was  on  it, 
his  eyes  were  mad  with  fear  as  he  thought  of 
such  a  probability.  He  remembered  now  the 
news  of  the  morning  which  had  given  him  the 
shock — the  news  of  Monica's  engagement — and 
it  mattered  absolutely  nothing  to  him ;  beside 
the  dread  of  another  such  brain-lapse  all  mortal 
pain  and  disappointment  seemed  mere  child- 
grief.  Abruptly,  heedless  of  the  fact  that  it 
was  in  the  middle  of  a  prayer,  and  that  the 
congregation  looked  up  at  him  with  scandalised 
glances,  he  got  up  and  walked  out  of  church. 
He  glanced  anxiously  round  the  church-yard 
and  the  road  outside,  half-doubting  whether 
even  this  might  not  be  a  part  of  some  night- 
mare. But  with  a  great  sigh  of  relief  he  recog- 
nised a  stream  which  ran  past  there  and  saw 


136  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

where  he  was.  Then  suddenly  he  realised  that 
he  was  fatigued,  footsore  and  hungry  to  the 
last  limit  of  endurance;  he  must  have  spent 
nearly  all  those  hours  in  walking.  There  was 
a  good  inn  in  the  village,  and  going  there  he 
ordered  food  and  went  into  the  garden  while  it 
was  being  prepared.  Coming  back  into  the 
dining-room  when  he  had  been  told  that  dinner 
was  ready  he  saw  sitting  at  a  table  in  the 
corner  .  .  .  Reggie  Nicholson  and  his 
father. 

Nicholson  and  his  father  .  .  .  was  it 
these  two  men  really  or  ...  A  ghastly 
dread  which  seized  him  made  him  move  a  few 
steps  towards  his  own  table  gazing  steadily 
before  him  the  while.  Then  he  looked  fur- 
tively round  again  to  see  if  they  were  still 
there.  Even  then  he  dare  not  be  quite  sure 
that  they  were  flesh  and  blood,  but  walked  up 
to  them  in  a  hesitating  manner  and  spoke  to 
the  elder  man  with  a  timidity  which  the  latter 
put  down  to  a  very  different  cause. 

"Better  join  tables,"  said  Mr.  Nicholson  at 
last,  and  Muirhead  unwillingly  ordered  his 
dinner  to  be  brought  across  the  room. 

"I've  just  seen  your  friend,  Robinson,"  said 
Nicholson.  "So  he's  sold  all  his  shares  in  the 
Freehold,  eh?  What's  that  for?" 

"He's  speculating,   I  suppose,"   said    Muir- 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  137 

head,  utterly  unable  to  think  whether  he  ought 
or  ought  not  to  be  talking  about  the  matter. 

"Well,  that  looks  to  me  a  very  queer  trans- 
action; fishy,  d — d  fishy,  I  call  it.  Anything 
going  wrong?  My  boy  says  .  .  .  Oh, 
Lord!  he's  treading  on  my  toes  under  the 
table.  What  have  I  said,  Reggie?  We're  all 
friends  here,  aren't  we?"  Nicholson  had 
finished  his  bottle  of  claret  with  very  slight  aid 
from  his  son  and  was  well  on  his  way  through 
one  of  the  bottles  of  port  for  which  the  inn  was 
famous.  "I  was  only  going  to  say  that  you 
didn't  like  the  look  of  that  deal  of  Robinson's 
any  more  than  I  do.  Canon  Hobart  has  a 
queer  story  too  of  Marshall  knowing  this 
neighbourhood  a  d — d  sight  better  than  he 
should  do;  and  here's  Robinson  selling  his 
shares.  It's  .  .  .  well,  it's"  —  Nicholson 
shook  his  head  solemnly,  trying  to  think 
of  a  new  word,  but  failing,  and  his  mind  drift- 
ing for  certain  reasons  to  the  thought  of  fresh 
water,  he  repeated — "fishy,  d — d  fishy." 

Food  and  wine  were  bringing  back  sense  to 
Muirhead's  brain;  he  took  in  at  last  what 
Nicholson  was  saying,  and  then  looking  at 
Reggie  saw  that  he  was  scarlet  and  playing 
nervously  with  some  biscuits.  Directly  his 
father  ceased  speaking  he  began  a  long  expla- 
nation of  what  had  brought  them  there  to 


138  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

V  -  "-'•". 

dinner,  but  Muirhead  did  not  listen.  So  the 
boy  was  betraying  them !  How  much  did  he 
know?  With  the  new  life  which  was  throbbing 
back  into  Muirhead's  nerves  came  the  smart  of 
the  old  pain.  Monica  had  gone ;  this  youngster 
had  taken  her.  There  was  no  hope  now,  for  an 
engagement  had  been  announced.  The  pain 
grew,  but  its  sharp  stabs  were  a  tonic  and 
Muirhead's  thoughts  became  perfectly  coher- 
ent. Reggie  would  be  a  relation  of  Miss  Ber- 
tram's now.  If  he  warned  her  and  made  her 
sell  her  Freehold  shares?  If  he  warned  a 
score  of  others  and  it  was  said  at  headquarters 
that  his  proceedings  were  Muirhead's  fault 
.  .  .  And  what  more  likely  than  that  he 
should  do  so,  now  that  his  connection  with  the 
Company  would  soon  be  at  an  end?  And  what 
was  Canon  Hobart's  story?  Doubtless  some 
more  work  of  young  Nicholson's.  No  further 
word  spoke  Muirhead  that  evening  except  to 
mutter  good-bye  as  the  father  and  son  rose 
from  the  table ;  but  he  sat  there  and  thought 
and  schemed,  and  glanced  round  the  room  at 
intervals  with  a  hunted  hopeless  look,  and  then 
thought  and  schemed  again. 


CHAPTER   XVI 

The  Dresden  Road  Wesleyan  Chapel  was 
unusually  crowded  one  Thursday  evening  in 
June,  the  congregation  having  been  attracted 
by  the  announcement  of  a  discourse  from  a 
favourite  and  famous  local  preacher.  The 
yellow  glass  windows  which  looked  painfully 
ugly  at  midday  now  glowed  rather  pleasingly 
in  the  half-light  of  a  summer  sunset.  The 
walls,  bare  but  tiled  in  one  part  and  soberly 
painted  in  another,  made  the  chapel  cool  and 
restful  to  the  eyes.  Humanity  being  so  much 
more  interesting  than  architecture  the  absence 
of  any  decorative  attraction  was  rather  an 
advantage  than  otherwise  to  a  person  who 
wanted  to  study  the  audience  and  their 
emotions. 

The  prayer  being  over  Mr.  Luke  Robinson 
mounted  the  pulpit  and  with  his  hands  folded 
in  front  of  him  and  his  eyes  flashing  back- 
wards and  forwards  among  his  auditors,  stood 
waiting  till  the  coughing,  rustling  and  settling 
down  of  the  congregation,  was  finished.  A 
few  persons  in  the  chapel  who  had  not  seen 
139 


140  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

him  before  peered  through  the  falling  light  to 
try  and  inspect  more  closely  this  man  whose 
influence  in  that  part  of  North  Staffordshire 
was  a  religious  and  political  power  which  no 
one  could  disregard. 

They  saw  a  man  of  middle  height,  square- 
shouldered,  square-headed,  in  fact  with  a 
general  appearance  of  (literal)  squareness 
everywhere.  His  hands  were  square  (also  red 
with  terribly  bitten  nails,  but  of  course  one 
only  noticed  that  on  closer  inspection),  his  chin 
and  forehead  were  massive  and  square.  His 
mouth  was  that  of  a  man  who  only  spoke  to 
give  orders,  and  who  could  enforce  obedience 
to  them  by  shutting  it  and  looking  on.  His 
eyes  were  steady  grey  eyes,  a  little  near 
together  and  rather  aggressive  under  their 
dark  eyebrows,  but  always  looking  straight  and 
unflinchingly  at  their  object  of  vision.  A  fine 
face  and  figure  altogether,  and  one  in  which 
few  men  found  anything  wrong.  Yet  a  certain 
travelling  phrenologist,  a  total  stranger  to  the 
district,  once  made  a  curious  remark  about  the 
great  Wesleyan  leader.  He  gave  a  lecture  in 
Stoke  and  invited  some  of  the  audience  on  to 
the  platform  to  have  their  "bumps"  read. 
Two  or  three  giggling  young  men  went  up  one 
by  one  after  much  persuasion,  but  the  proces- 
sion was  slow  and  brief;  and  to  encourage 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  141 

others  Luke  Robinson,  always  ready  with  such 
good-natured  acts,  went  up  and  submitted 
himself  to  the  phrenologist.  The  man  felt  him 
over  and  made  some  commonplace  but  rather 
apt  jokes:  "This  is  what  I  should  call  more  a 
wholesale  than  a  retail  head";  "our  friend 
here  gives  orders  at  twelve  o'clock  and  expects 
to  have  them  executed  by  half-past,"  etc.,  but 
his  voice  grew  a  little  odd  at  last  and  the  jokes 
died  away.  "Say,  Jimmy,"  said  a  friend  after- 
wards, "that  parson  chap  seemed  to  puzzle  you 
a  bit."  "He  didn't  puzzle  me, "  retorted  the 
phrenologist,  "bul;  I  was  just  wondering  what 
he  would  say  if  I  told  him  the  truth — that  his 
head  was  the  cruellest  and  selfishest  head  I 
ever  set  hands  on!" 

"I  am  going  to  speak  to  you  this  even- 
ing about  the  responsibilities  of  worldly 
wealth.  .  .  ."  Mr.  Robinson  could  not 
speak  many  words  without  showing  you  one 
secret  of  his  influence.  His  voice  was 
exquisite,  strong,  clear,  perfectly  controlled, 
so  that  one  would  have  been  charmed  to  sit 
and  listen  to  the  speaker  reciting  the  multipli- 
cation-table. Half  unconscious  of  the  reason, 
many  of  his  audience  sat  back  in  their  seats 
with  a  satisfied  sigh,  ready  to  take  for  gospel 
anything  told  them  by  a  preacher  who  had 
such  notes  in  his  voice  as  this  man  had. 


142  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

Besides,  the  subject  was  interesting,  and  Rob- 
inson spoke  in  a  strongly  authoritative  manner. 
He  denounced  speculation,  especially  the  turf, 
and  his  hearers  nodded  their  heads  in  approval. 
"Anything  in  fact,"  he  went  on,  "which  caused 
a  man  to  give  an  undue  amount  of  time  and 
thought  to  mere  increase  of  money  was  wrong, 
but,  on  the  other  hand,"  he  said,  "anything 
which  increased  a  man's  money  without 
expenditure  of  time  and  thought  was  equally 
wrong.  It  was  not  easy  to  steer  between  the 
two  courses,  but  there  were  certain  rules 
which,  if  a  man  would  adopt  them,  would 
simplify  the  difficulties.  Money,  for  instance, 
could  be  put  into  investments  which  gave  no 
anxiety  or  thought  whatever  to  their  holders, 
into  Government  securities,  well-established 
banks  or  railways  and  so  on.  This  was  good, 
because  it  left  the  holder  perfectly  free  to  think 
of  spiritual  things,  of  charity  and  justice  and 
the  duties  of  his  religion.  But  as  such  invest- 
ments only  produced  a  very  small  interest  it 
was  questionable  whether  a  man  who  put  his 
money  into  them  could  really  be  said  to  be 
doing  the  best  for  himself  and  his  neighbours. 
Money  again  could  be  invested  in  the  extension 
and  improvement  of  a  man's  own  existing 
business,  and  this  was  good  too,  because  it 
employed  an  increased  number  of  men  of 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  143 

whose  honesty  and  welfare  the  master  could 
directly  and  constantly  assure  himself;  but 
such  a  form  of  investment  was  not  always  pos- 
sible. Most  men  had  to  invest  their  savings  in 
some  business  in  the  management  of  which 
they  could  not  have  any  direct  control,  and  if 
one  wanted  more  than  the  very  small  interest 
paid  by  Government  securities — and  such  a 
desire  was  perfectly  legitimate — one  was  con- 
fronted with  innumerable  risks  and  tempta- 
tions. He,  the  preacher,  thought  that  that 
man  would  not  only  be  occupying  a  higher 
moral  standpoint,  but  would  actually  be  more 
secure  from  loss  who  said  to  himself,  'Is 
this  business  in  which  I  want  to  invest  not 
only  a  sound  money-making  concern  but  of 
some  moral  advantage  to  those  with  whom 
it  trades?  Shall  I  by  investing  money  in  it 
be  helping  my  neighbours  towards  justice, 
morality,  righteousness,  as  well  as  doing  good 
to  myself?'  There  were  such  institutions.  For 
instance  .  .  ." 

Gerald  Franklin,  sitting  in  the  body  of  the 
chapel  amidst  the  rapt  audience,  leant  forward 
a  little  watching  the  preacher  closely.  He  had 
listened  to  this  preamble — spread  out  of  course 
over  a  much  greater  length  than  the  above 
summary,  and  delivered  with  frequent  inter- 
spersion  of  biblical  texts  and  scraps  of  worldly 


144  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

philosophy,  as  well  as  with  much  earnestness 
and  eloquence — critically  and  admiringly,  not- 
ing with  acute  approval  each  well-argued 
clearly-put  premise  from  which  the  ultimate 
conclusion  was  to  be  drawn.  He  admired  the 
preacher  immensely.  Yet — I  like  when  it  is 
possible  to  put  forward  a  good  point  or  two  in 
my  young  friend's  character;  he  cannot,  I 
must  allow,  afford  to  have  the  smallest  of  them 
passed  over — in  the  lad's  heart  was  a  scorn  and 
contempt  for  Mr.  Luke  Robinson  which  not 
even  his  far-calculating  resolution  could  always 
hide.  He  despised  this  man  with  his  greed, 
humbug,  fraud  and  lies,  with  a  passion  of  con- 
tempt which  was  almost  hatred.  In  public, 
everywhere,  even  among  his  most  intimate 
friends,  he  was  obliged  to  speak  in  terms  of  the 
greatest  respect  and  veneration  for  Mr.  Robin- 
son's opinion,  and  it  was  the  highest  testimony 
to  Gerald's  powers  of  self-control  that  he  was 
able  to  do  so.  In  private  he  talked  and  wrote 
to  the  preacher  with  an  open  scorn  and  derision 
under  which  Mr.  Robinson  winced  and  squirmed 
again ;  and  no  higher  testimony  could  be  given 
to  Gerald's  influence  in  the  Freehold  than 
Robinson's  toleration  of  this  insolence.  In  his 
own  review  of  his  position  in  the  Society  there 
was  nothing  which  irritated  Gerald  more  than 
the  semi-consciousness  that,  so  far  as  humbug 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  145 

and  hypocrisy  were  concerned,  Robinson  and 
himself  would  be  regarded  by  the  world  as  in 
very  much  the  same  boat. 

The  preacher  was  now  well  on  his  way 
through  a  strong  and  emphatic  laudation  of  the 
Freehold  Building  Society,  its  works,  man- 
agers, finance  and  prospects.  In  many  places 
his  words  would  have  sounded  extravagant  and 
absurd;  but  Robinson  knew  his  audience,  and 
knew  that  hints  and  suggestions  would  be  quite 
lost  on  them.  The  panegyric  was  straightfor- 
ward, forcible  and  consistent.  At  frequent 
intervals  he  recurred  to  the  philanthropic  work 
of  the  Society,  in  order  to  show  that  his  praise 
of  it  was  not  out  of  place  in  a  religious  build- 
ing, and  repeated  more  than  once  that  the 
main  object  of  his  sermon  was  to  help  those 
who  had  a  proper  horror  of  speculation  and  yet 
wanted  to  do  the  most  possible  good  with  their 
money.  "It  is  his  masterpiece,  this  sermon," 
said  Gerald  to  himself,  as  the  peroration  came 
to  an  end  amidst  silence,  in  which  every  man 
could  hear  his  neighbour  breathe;  "the  fellow 
has  never  done  better.  I  don't  wonder  he 
wanted  Muirhead  to  come  and  hear  it.  What 
a  glowing  report  poor  old  Muirhead  would  have 
sent  of  it  to  headquarters!  Indeed  I  must 
take  one  there  myself.  The  very  least  one  can 
say  about  the  hypocrite,  is  that  he  is  worth  all 


146  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

the  money  we  pay  him.  I  will  go  round  and 
see  him  now." 

Mr.  Robinson  was  inclined  to  regard  it  as  an 
ill-requital  for  his  labours  of  the  evening,  when 
Mr.  Gerald  Franklin  stepped  softly  into  his 
room  and  with  an  engaging  smile  congratu- 
lated him  on  his  sermon. 

"At  this  moment,"  said  the  boy,  "when,  as 
you  know,  things  are  beginning  to  look  a  little 
queer,  we  were  really  in  want  of  a  brilliant 
effort  like  that.  Now  I  should  say  that  sermon 
was  good  for  five  or  six  thousand  pounds. 
Quite  a  little  haul  of  plunder,  eh?" 

"You  will  give  a  proper  report  of  it  to  Mar- 
shall?" asked  Robinson,  sulky  yet  anxious. 

"Oh,  yes;  yes,  certainly.  You  shall  have  all 
the  payment  for  it  which  it  is  our  affair  to  give. 
And  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  some  of  your  audi- 
ence to-night  made  up  the  balance  one  day. 
You'll  have  a  lively  time  of  it  if  they  do!" 

"I  do  my  best  for  them,"  said  Robinson 
shamefacedly  and  hesitatingly.  "How  can 
they  blame  me  if  something  beyond  my  control 
goes  wrong  afterwards?" 

"Is  anybody  listening  to  us?"  asked  Gerald 
in  affected  alarm. 

"Not  that  I  know  of." 

"Are  you  keeping  up  that  d — d  cant  for  my 
benefit?  How  very  funny!  However,  I 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  147 

hadn't  come  here  to  hear  a  second  edition  of 
to-night's  sermon.  To  be  honest  I  find  one 
about  as  much  as  I  can  stomach  in  a  week. 
There  is  something  I  want  to  speak  about 
before  I  go  up  to  London.  Those  shares  of 
yours — did  Marshall  give  you  leave  to  sell 
them?" 

"Are  the  shares  Marshall's  or  mine?"  asked 
the  other  with  surly  bravado. 

"Marshall's  for  all  practical  purposes.  You 
and  Benson  have  played  a  trick  on  us,  and  we 
don't  choose  such  tricks  to  be  played." 

"Who  advised  Miss  Bertram  to  buy  the 
shares?"  sneered  Robinson.  "Who  talks  about 
plunder  after  that?" 

"Who  invited  you  to  share  the  plunder?" 
was  the  cool  reply.  "Keep  clear  of  our  busi- 
ness except  when  you  are  told  to  come  forward. 
Now  I  am  going  to  speak  to  Marshall  about 
this  affair,  and  I  should  think  it  very  likely 
that  he  would  insist  upon  the  shares  being 
bought  back." 

"Yes?  Insist?"  .  .  .  The  man's  eyes 
flashed  furiously. 

"I  should  think  it  likely,"  repeated  Mr. 
Franklin.  "We  don't  choose  to  have  agents 
without  any  interest  in  the  undertaking." 

"And  if  I  refuse?  If  I  turn  round  alto- 
gether, say  I  have  discovered  the  truth,  and 


148  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

denounce  the  whole  affair  here  and  in  a  score 
of  chapels  all  over  the  Potteries?" 

"  'If !'  "  .  .  .  said  the  boy  quietly  but 
derisively.  "And  'if  we  produce  a  hundred 
letters  of  yours  thanking  us  for  money,  promis- 
ing to  persuade  this,  that,  and  the  other  person 
to  buy  shares,  and  acknowledging  commissions 
received  from  us  on  such  new  shareholders! 
Fire  away!  Begin  your  sermons  to-morrow! 
I  doubt  if  you  will  bring  in  much  more  money 
after  to-night.  To-night  has  about  exhausted 
all  that  you  can  do,  and  for  many  reasons  we 
should  be  glad  to  be  rid  of  you.  I  myself  for 
one  detest  this  religious  part  of  the  business. 
I  am  told  that  Lord  Eastney  does  too.  So  fire 
away!" 

"We  could  do  one  another  a  great  deal  of 
mischief,  I  daresay,"  said  Robinson  with  an 
uneasy  attempt  to  pass  off  the  quarrel  and 
resume  a  lighter  tone,  "so  we  need  not  argue 
about  it.  Neither  of  us  has  any  intention  of 
beginning.  We  both  know  too  much  about  the 
other.  Now  there  is  a  little  matter  connected 
with  the  Arkhill  property.  .  .  ." 

"We  will  settle  about  these  shares,  please. 
Do  I  understand  I  am  to  tell  Marshall  that  you 
refuse  to  buy  any  more?" 

"It  is  about  that  very  point  I  am  going  to 
speak.  I  have  seven  acres  of  land  at  the 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  149 

corner  of  the  Dently  Road  and  the  turn  down 
to  the  Hall — a  most  valuable  little  lot.  Now  if 
the  Freehold  would  buy  that — it  rounds  off  the 
Arkhill  estate  perfectly;  Sir  Richard  Culla- 
more  said  so  more  than  once — we  might 
arrange  it.  I  would  take  payment  in  shares, 
even  with  a  promise  to  keep  some  of  them. 
Then  of  course  there  would  be  no  more  talk  of 
denunciations.  If  they  would  give  me — say — " 
the  man,  who  had  been  speaking  quietly,  and 
with  his  eyes  half-closed,  suddenly  changed  the 
tone  of  his  voice,  and  looked  straight  at  Gerald, 
menacing  him — "say  five  hundred  ten-pound 
shares  for  the  seven  acres,  that  would  satisfy 
me." 

"You  would  like  five  thousand  pounds  for  a 
bit  of  land  worth  perhaps  two  hundred,  Mr. 
Robinson?" — Gerald  Franklin  was  one  of  those 
born  rulers  of  men  who,  instinctively,  and 
without  stopping  to  reason,  meet  threats  with 
defiances — "I  think  I  will  take  it  on  myself  to 
decline  your  offer  on  behalf  of  the  Freehold. 
I  will  speak  to  Marshall  about  it,  certainly,  and 
report  this  conversation  to  him,  but  .  .  ." 

"Oh,  it  was  a  mere  suggestion,  Mr.  Frank- 
lin. Don't  make  too  much  of  it.  Wait  a 
moment" — Gerald  was  moving  towards  the 
door — "Pray,  Mr.  Franklin,  do  not  make  mis- 
chief between  me  and  Marshall. ' ' 


150  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

"Oh,  certainly  not,"  said  the  boy,  drily, 
"but  you  see  I  am  just  an  agent  of  Mr.  Mar- 
shall's here,  and  I  must  keep  him  in  touch  with 
the  Society's  business, — with  the  revolts  of  its 
minor  agents,  and  so  on." 

"But  that  is  nonsense.  Does  my  sermon 
to-night,  for  instance,  mean  that  I  am  in  revolt, 
as  you  call  it?" 

"The  sermon  in  question,"  was  the  reply, 
"is  not  so  very  straightforward  that  I  can  tell 
at  a  glance  what  it  means.  Good-night,  Mr. 
Robinson." 

Left  alone  Luke  Robinson  sat  down,  and,  I 
regret  to  say,  swore  softly  to  himself  for  sev- 
eral minutes.  For  about  th,e  hundredth  time 
in  his  life  he  had  met  Gerald  in  open  conflict 
and  been  badly  beaten.  This  scheme  of  his 
for  selling  the  little  plot  of  ground  near  Dently 
to  the  Freehold  for  ^5000 — just  fifty  times  its 
value — was  a  pet  one  which  had  been  maturing 
for  some  months,  and  this  evening's  sermon 
was  a  part  of  it.  He  had  meant  and  invited 
Muirhead  to  come  and  hear  the  sermon  and 
send  a  glowing  account  of  it  to  Marshall,  who 
would  thus  be  in  a  favourable  mood  to  listen  to 
his  plan.  Even  when  Gerald  had  appeared 
instead  of  Muirhead  he  had  not  despaired. 
The  scheme,  in  fact,  might  as  well  be  laid  by 
himself  before  the  boy,  whose  advice  about  it 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  151 

would  certainly  be  asked  by  Marshall.  Then 
had  come  the  quarrel,  threats,  an  ill-timed 
introduction  of  the  proposal,  more  threats,  and 
somehow  Gerald  had  come  out  of  the  contest, 
as  he  usually  did,  victorious.  Robinson  cursed 
him  quietly  but  distinctly  for  the  space  of  half 
a  minute  more,  and  then  went  on  thinking.  Of 
course  what  the  boy  said  was  true,  he  was  in 
the  Society's  power.  He  could  damage  them 
a  little — perhaps:  they  could  annihilate  him  for 
certain  in  reply.  And  Gerald  had  said  that  his 
influence  was  not  wanted  much  longer:  that 
to-night's  sermon  had  finished  his  work.  Was 
that  so  really?  ...  It  chimed  in  some- 
what painfully  with  certain  suspicions  of  his 
own.  He  had  been  a  fool,  ten  times  a  fool,  to 
preach  as  he  had  preached  to-night,  without 
driving  his  bargain  beforehand!  There  was 
little  left  to  hope  for  if  Marshall  and  Franklin 
thought  him  used  up.  Gratitude  was  not  a 
very  conspicuous  virtue  in  gentry  of  that 
description,  and  fear  was  apparently  an  equally 
inconspicuous  vice.  He  had  already  made,  it 
is  true,  a  moderate  fortune  out  of  the  Free- 
hold, but  moderation  is  a  word  of  unknown 
meaning  to  men  of  his  breed.  Their  love  of 
money  becomes  gradually  absorbed  into  a  pas- 
sion for  money-getting,  which  is  not  only  the 
most  unhappy  disease  upon  earth,  but  nearly 


152  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

always  brings  its  victims  into  difficulties,  and 
thence  occasionally  into  gaol,  for  the  simple 
reason  that  there  is  a  limit  to  the  amount  of 
money  which  you  can  get  honestly.  This  latter 
fact — a  discovery  of  my  own  and  one  of  the 
highest  importance  in  political  economy — alone 
prevents  certain  men  absorbing  all  the  avail- 
able cash  of  a  county  or  town,  or  even  country 
into  their  own  pockets,  and  has  been  a  serious 
annoyance  to  many  a  money-getting  machine 
besides  Mr.  Luke  Robinson. 

As  he  left  the  chapel  he  encountered  one 
after  another  of  the  auditors  of  his  sermon,  and 
was  obliged  to  listen  to  their  congratulation, 
approval,  and  arguments.  As  he  walked  up 
the  hill  past  the  Nurses'  Home,  Canon  Hobart 
overtook  him,  and  the  two  men  nodded  to  one 
another.  Then  the  Rector,  irritably  conscious 
of  certain  accusations  of  intolerance  which  he 
had  been  hearing  and  which  had  been  gather- 
ing volume,  to  say  truth  not  without  cause, 
during  the  past  eighteen  months,  joined  the 
Wesleyan  minister  and  they  walked  on 
together. 

"You  have  been  preaching  at  the  Hanley 
Road  chapel  this  evening?"  said  Hobart 
politely. 

"Yes."  On  any  other  occasion  Robinson 
would  have  felt  rather  gratified  at  the  fame  of 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  153 

his  sermon  having  already  spread  so  far.  Now 
he  was  simply  annoyed. 

"About  this  building  society?" 

"I  mentioned  it  in  my  sermon." 

"Now,  Mr.  Robinson,  if  you  won't  think  me 
impertinent  for  mentioning  my  ideas  to  you 
about  that  affair" — the  Rector  paused  for  a 
disclaimer  of  such  thoughts  from  his  compan- 
ion, who  however  maintained  a  disconcerting 
silence — "I  should  like  to  beg  you  to  re-con- 
sider your  attitude  with  regard  to  it.  I  dis- 
trust it.  Who  is  Lord  Eastney?  We  all  know 
him  down  here — a  poor  and  not  over-scrupulous 
peer  with  big  expenses  and  a  small  income. 
Who  is  this  man  Marshall,  the  real  manager 
and  only  apparent  business  man  in  the  under- 
taking? I  say  who  is  Marshall?" 

"A  well-known,  perfectly  honest  financier." 
.  .  Robinson  began  a  perfunctory  defence 
of  Marshall  and  was  in  full  swing  with  it ;  he 
knew  every  word  by  heart,  and  was  sick  to 
death  of  repeating  it;  when  he  suddenly 
stopped  bewildered  by  his  companion's  expres- 
sion. They  had  reached  the  top  of  the  hill  and 
had  turned  down  a  short  road  leading  to  Rob- 
inson's house.  In  a  valley  on  one  side  of  them 
was  Stoke:  on  a  table-land  opposite  to  them 
stood  the  long  line  of  the  North  Staffordshire 
Infirmary  buildings  just  visible  in  the  light  of 


154  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

the  summer  sunset.  The  buildings  had  caught 
Hobart's  eye  as  he  asked  his  question  "Who  is 
Marshall?"  and  the  sight  seemed  suddenly  to 
connect  itself  with  his  words.  In  vivid  flashes 
the  train  of  thought  connecting  the  two  ran 
on.  Robinson's  words  fell  on  deaf  ears.  Who 
was  Marshall?  What  on  earth  had  Marshall  to 
do  with  the  North  Staffordshire  Infirmary? 
Was  it  some  mere  trifle,  a  subscription,  a 
speech,  a  patient?  What  connection  had  that 
face,  that  smooth  silky  voice  with  some  one  in 
there?  Something  he  was  sure  .  .  .  ah! 
but  it  was  maddening  not  to  be  able  to  remem- 
ber what!  Abruptly  wishing  the  minister 
good-night  Canon  Hobart  turned  back  and 
walked  home  desperately  trying  t6  remember 
something  which  eluded  him  more  and  more  at 
every  step.  He  had  fixed  his  mind  firmly  at 
last  upon  the  patients  in  the  place  and  was 
certain  that  Marshall  had  been  one  of  them, 
one  who  for  a  reason  (probably — certainly — a 
bad  one)  had  left  an  impression.  But  what 
was  the  reason?  He  would  ask  Marshall  the 
question  point-blank,  resolved  Hobart  irritably, 
on  the  very  next  occasion  on  which  he  met 
him. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

"Mr.  Robinson,  I  believe?" 

"Yes,  my  Lord.  I  am  pleased  to  see  your 
lordship  down  in  this  neighbourhood." 

Lord  Eastney  motioned  to  the  minister  to  take 
a  seat.  He  had  come  down  from  London  with 
Marshall  that  morning,  two  days  after  the  now 
famous  sermon  in  the  Hanley  Road  chapel, 
and  various  local  lights  of  the  Freehold  Build- 
ing Society  had  been  invited  to  meet  him. 
The  visit,  which  was  in  fact  a  mere  business 
one  made  in  connection  with  the  purchase  of 
the  Arkhill  estate,  caused  some  commotion. 
Oddly  enough  several  persons  professed  at  first 
to  view  it  with  suspicion,  as  indicative  of  some- 
thing being  wrong.  Then  on  the  following 
day  it  was  announced  in  the  Staffordshire 
Sentinel  that  the  Marchioness  of  Eastney  and 
Lady  Angela  Purvis  had  come  down  too.  A 
report  was  spread  about  that  the  family  was 
looking  for  a  house  in  the  district  and  once 
more  peace  and  joy  reigned. 

"You  have  done  some  good  work  for  us 
here,  Mr.  Robinson." 


156  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

"I  do  what  I  can,  my  lord,  for  my  flock  in 
temporal  as  well  as  spiritual  things." 

The  marquis  looked  round  at  Marshall  with  a 
queer  glance  which  seemed  to  ask:  "Am  I 
obliged  to  keep  up  this  canting  nonsense  with 
this  fellow?  Can't  you  tell  him  to  talk 
openly?"  but  Marshall  took  no  notice. 

"Now  we  hear — forgive  my  coming  to  busi- 
ness rather  abruptly;  my  time  is  short — that 
you  want  to  sell  a  bit  of  land  adjoining  this 
estate  which  we  are  buying. ' ' 

"That  is  so,  my  lord.  A  very  nice  bit.  Far 
more  valuable  than  any  other  bit  on  your 
property.  If  there  is  coal  near  Dently  the 
seam  must  run  right  through  my  land." 

"We  will  give  you  ^£400;  that  is  we  will  give 
you  forty  shares  in  the  Freehold  for  it." 

"Why,  my  lord,  the  land  is     .     .     ." 

"I  advise  you  to  accept  our  offer,  Mr.  Rob- 
inson." 

"If  you  will  treble  it,  my  lord!" 

"But  we  won't!" 

The  door  close  by  Robinson  opened  and 
Lady  Eastney  came  in  accompanied  by  a 
young  man  and  a  child ;  her  husband  looked  up 
with  a  slight  frown. 

"The  Harleys  have  just  come,"  she  said, 
making  slight  bows  to  Marshall  and  Robinson 
as  she  walked  up  the  room  to  the  table  where 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  157 

her  husband  sat.  "Shall  you  be  able  to  come 
and  see  them?" 

"Yes,  I  will  come  down  shortly.  Ask  them 
to  wait  if  they  can."  He  hesitated  for  a 
moment  and  then  resolved  on  a  manoeuvre 
which  had  often  enough  succeeded  before. 
"Wait  one  moment,"  he  said  as  his  wife  was 
preparing  to  move  away;  "I  want  to  present 
to  you  a  very  good  friend  of  our  work  down 
here,  Mr.  Luke  Robinson.  Mr.  Robinson,  my 
wife,  Lady  Eastney. " 

The  Marchioness  seemed  to  study  her  hus- 
band for  a  moment  as  though  to  learn  some- 
thing, and  then  turned  to  Robinson  with  a 
polite  smile:  "I  am  most  pleased  to  make 
acquaintance  with  Lord  Eastney's  friends 
down  here,"  she  said.  "It  is  my  first  visit  to 
the  district,  and  I  find  it  most  interesting. 
Angela  and  I" — the  dark  eyes  with  that 
infinitely  weary  smile  in  them,  looked  down 
on  the  small  eight-year-old  creature  with  an 
odd  look  of  pity — "have  been  over  the  Wedge- 
wood  works  this  morning,  and  we  were  very 
much  interested.  We  were  given  the  most 
charming  little  vases." 

"I  suppose  Miss  Angela  will  be  able  to 
make  vases  for  herself  now,"  said  the  minister, 
smiling  with  embarrassed  amiability,  and  put- 
ting his  hand  on  the  child's  head.  He  was 


158  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

(self) -celebrated  for  having  "a  way  with  chil- 
dren." The  little  lady  shrank  back  with  a 
glance  of  quick  proud  anger,  but  the  Marchion- 
ess with  a  hand  lightly  but  firmly  on  her 
shoulder  held  her  still  while  Robinson  stroked 
her  hair  two  or  three  times,  and  Lady  Eastney 
looked  down  on  her  with  that  curious  look  of 
pity  still  in  her  eyes. 

"We  should  both  love  to  play  with  that  clay, 
I  am  sure,"  she  said.  "We  should  like  to  go 
back  there  every  day  while  we  are  here ;  but 
we  want  to  see  something  of  our  friends,  and 
there  is  not  time  for  everything.  Has  Lord 
Eastney  asked  you  to  come  to  lunch  with  us 
to-morrow,  Mr.  Robinson?  I  know  he  means 
to  do  so,  and  I  hope  you  will  be  able  to  come. 
Angela  and  I  are  so  anxious  to  hear  something 
about  the  lives  and  work  of  all  the  people  we 
saw  in  the  manufactory  this  morning,  and  you 
must  come  and  tell  us. ' ' 

"His  lordship  has  asked  me,  and  I  have  been 
delighted  to  accept  his  invitation.  I  shall  be 
most  pleased  to  tell  your  ladyship  and  Miss 
Angela  all  you  want  to  know."  The  man 
put  out  his  hand  again,  and  with  a  quick, 
uncontrollable  movement,  the  little  one  put  up 
her  arms  to  defend  her  hair  from  being 
stroked.  But  in  response  to  another  warning 
pressure  on  her  shoulder  she  dropped  them 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  159 

again,  though  angry  tears  welled  up  in  her 
eyes. 

"Then  we  need  only  say  au  revoir  till 
to-morrow,"  said  the  Marchioness,  holding  out 
her  hand  with  her  most  charming  smile.  "I 
must  go  now  to  some  friends  who  are  waiting 
forme.  Bertie!" 

The  young  man  who  had  come  in  with  Lady 
Eastney,  and  who  had  been  standing  during 
the  interview  looking  at  Robinson  as  if  he  were 
a  new  and  not  very  pleasing  specimen  of  the 
ourang-outang  tribe  of  monkey,  lounged  for- 
ward to  the  door,  opened  it,  and  with  a  long 
farewell  glance  at  Robinson's  coat,  as  if  still 
doubtful  whether  it  did  or  did  not  conceal  a 
tail,  went  out  after  the  Marchioness. 

"Only  three  days  more!"  he  said  cheerfully 
when  they  were  outside,  "and  then  Scotland 
and  freedom !  Hullo,  another  couple !  Women 
this  time !  Very  nice-looking  girl  too.  Were 
you  looking?"  Bertie  Alford  stopped  in  front 
of  Miss  Bertram  and  Monica,  and  addressed  the 
latter  with  an  impertinence  which  was  curious 
in  a  man  who  was  usually  well-mannered 
enough.  In  point  of  fact  he  was  trying  to 
amuse  and  distract  Lady  Eastney,  and  would 
have  chaffed  and  insulted  half  a  dozen  royalties 
to  bring  a  laugh  to  the  pale,  tired  face.  "Were 
you  looking  for  Lord  Eastney?" 


160  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

"We  are  waiting  for  my  brother  who  is 
with  him  now,"  said  Monica. 

"Well,  won't  you  come  in  here,  Miss  Robin- 
son?" went  on  Alford  recklessly,  and  delighted 
to  hear  a  slight  giggle  from  Angela.  He  indi- 
cated the  dining-room  of  the  private  suite 
which  Lord  Eastney  had  engaged  at  the  North 
Stafford  Hotel.  "Your  brother  may  be  some 
time.  He  told  me  .  .  ." 

"That  will  do,  Bertie."  Lady  Eastney  came 
forward  with  a  vexed  look  as  she  saw  Monica 
flush  angrily.  ' '  But  would  you  like  to  wait  in 
here?"  she  went  on,  turning  to  Miss  Bertram. 
"My  cousin  is  quite  right  in  saying  that  Mr. 
Robinson  seemed  to  be  very  much  occupied 
with  my  husband — with  Lord  Eastney." 

"We  have  nothing  to  do  with  Mr.  Robin- 
son," was  Miss  Bertram's  chilling  reply.  "We 
are  waiting  for  Mr.  Franklin.  This  is  my  niece, 
Miss  Franklin." 

"Oh! — I  beg  your  pardon!"  The  strangest 
expressions  of  sympathy,  pity,  and  something 
like  fear,  swept  across  my  lady's  face.  Her 
voice,  in  which  also  there  was  an  odd  touch  of 
fear,  made  Alford  look  at  her  with  amazement. 
"You  must  be  Miss  Bertram.  I  am  so  glad  to 
make  your  acquaintance,  even  in  this  odd 
manner."  The  Marchioness  glanced  reproach- 
fully at  her  cousin,  who  muttered  something 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  161 

sounding  like,  "How  the  deuce  was  I  to 
know?"  "Please  come  and  wait  in  this  room. 
Everybody  in  there  looked  so  very  busy  that 
I  feel  sure  you  will  have  a  long  time  to 
wait. ' ' 

Miss  Christina  and  Monica  followed  the  tall, 
graceful  young  figure  into  the  room,  and  then  v 
sat  down  and  studied  her.  At  first  sight  Lady  ." 
Eastney  looked  younger  than  her  years,  which  ./ 
numbered  but  thirty;  on  closer  inspection  she 
looked  as  if  she  were  trying  to  hide  the  ravages 
of  forty  hard-lived  years.  Her  dress  of  brown 
holland  and  white  muslin,  with  diamond 
brooches  holding  a  lace  collar  here  and  a  flower 
or  two  there,  looked  too  young;  a  profusion  of 
emerald  and  diamond  jewellery  on  her  wrist, 
and  a  long  white  finger,  gave  her  the  appear- 
ance to  feminine  eyes  in  this  particular  en- 
vironment of  being  slightly  over-dressed. 
There  was  also  something  oddly  offensive  to 
the  eyes  of  her  two  present  companions  in  her 
manner  of  putting  her  arms  at  once  round 
Angela,  and  holding  her  tight  with  an  aggres- 
sive air  of  protection.  They  could  hardly,  of 
course,  understand  that  it  was  an  instinctive 
habit  of  Lady  Eastney's  in  the  presence  of 
any  of  her  husband's  clients,  or  their  rela- 
tions or  friends. 

"My  cousin  and  I  had  just  been  talking  to 


1 62  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

Mr.  Robinson.  This  is  my  cousin,  Mr.  Alford. 
Bertie,  apologise  to  Miss  Franklin  for  .  .  ." 

"For  supposing  that  she  was  a  relation  of 
Luke  Robinson's.  Most  willingly,"  said  the 
young  man,  but  a  glance  of  warning  entreaty 
made  him  look  penitent. 

"And  you  might  just  go  and  talk  to  the 
Harleys  for  a  few  moments.  No,  Angela 
would  rather  stay  with  us;  you  must  venture 
down  there  alone." 

"Does  she  go  about  with  you  everywhere?" 
asked  Miss  Bertram,  rather  at  a  loss  for  some- 
thing to  say. 

"Yes,"  said  my  lady  quietly.  "We  have 
been  to  some  pottery  works  this  morning,  and 
she  has  been  carrying  about  this  little  vase 
which  they  gave  her  ever  since." 

Monica  held  out  a  hand  to  the  child,  who  first 
shrank  back  a  little  and  then  went  resolutely 
forward.  It  was  dreadful  to  see  how  the  baby, 
whose  nervousness  could  be  seen  in  every  line 
of  her  white  blue-veined  forehead  and  black- 
encircled  eyes,  had  trained  herself,  or  been 
trained,  to  obey  every  such  advance ;  while  my 
Lady's  anxious  unhappy  glances  followed  her 
child  everywhere. 

"Your  nephew  is  coming  up  to  London,  I  am 
told?"  said  Lady  Eastney. 

"Yes,  next   Saturday."      There   was  some 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  163 

surprise  in  Miss  Bertram's  voice,  and  Lady 
Eastney  answered  it  with  a  smile. 

"I  know  a  good  deal  of  the  Freehold  busi- 
ness," she  said.  "Of  course  one  hears  a  lot 
about  it.  It  is  a  big  affair,  and  my  husband, 
who  is  much  absorbed  in  it,  talks  of  its  busi- 
ness constantly.  Are  you  coming  up  to  Lon- 
don with  him?" 

"No,  he  will  live  with  some  friends." 

"He  is  very  young,  is  he  not?" 

"Just  eighteen;  but  his  friends,  cousins  of 
mine,  will  take  good  care  of  him.  My  cousin 
is  engaged  in  some  Freehold  work  too,  as  well 
as  being  a  shareholder.  We  are  all  interested 
in  the  Society  new.  I  have  all  my  money  in  it 
too,  as  perhaps  your  ladyship  knows. " 

"No,  I  didn't  know.  .  .  .  What  is  it, 
darling?  Something  broken  in  the  vase 
already?  Oh,  my  baby,  what  fingers!" 

"No,  but  ought  that  leaf  to  go  like  that, 
mother?" 

"I  don't  quite  see  why  it  should.  The  pat- 
tern is  funny,  isn't  it,  sweetheart?  It  is  a 
design  which,  like  some  of  the  designs  of  Provi- 
dence, isn't  very  easy  to  follow.  .  .  .  You 
know  Mr.  Lowe,  the  Vicar  of  Hartshill,  of 
course,  Miss  Bertram?" 

"Yes,  my  lady.  Another  shareholder  in  the 
Freehold.  He  has  got  everything  in  it  too. ' ' 


164  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

"Everything?  .  .  .  Really  you  are  very 
thorough  people  down  here !  Nearly  every  one 
I  come  across  seems  to  have  half  or  all  his  cr 
her  money  in  the  Society!" 

"If  we  can  increase  our  incomes  without 
risk,  it  is  our  duty  to  do  so,"  said  Miss  Ber- 
tram. "There  is  so  much  poverty  in  the  world 
to  relieve ;  so  many  persons  whom  a  little  help 
will  put  right  for  all  time ;  so  many  who,  by 
sudden  accidents  or  illness,  are  genuinely 
incapable  for  a  time  of  helping  themselves." 

"And  I  am  sure  you  are  the  friend  of  all  of 
them,"  said  Lady  Eastney,  studying  her  com- 
panion with  very  sincere  admiration.  "How 
much  of  the  increased  income  of  which  your 
aunt  speaks  does  she  spend  on  herself,  Miss 
Franklin?" 

"Not  much  certainly,"  said  Monica  with  a 
smile  and  a  slightly  puzzled  look  at  the 
Marchioness'  face,  the  tired  look  on  which  had 
increased  till  it  gave  one  the  idea  of  unbear- 
able physical  pain.  She  was  very  white  too, 
and  laid  her  cheek  down  on  the  little  head  of 
her  daughter  with  an  air  of  hopeless  fatigue. 
There  was  silence  for  a  moment  or  two,  and 
then  a  door  was  opened  and  voices  sounded  in 
the  passage  outside. 

"The  conference  is  at  an  end,  apparently," 
said  Lady  Eastney,  rising  from  her  chair  with 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  165 

an  arm  always  round  Angela.  "Come  and  find 
your  nephew,  Miss  Bertram." 

She  swept  out  into  the  passage  where  Lord 
Eastney  and  Marshall  were  standing  talking  to 
Robinson,  while  Gerald  stood  a  little  apart  and 
looked  on. 

"It  is  our  last  offer,  on  my  word,"  the 
Marquis  was  saying;  "forty  shares  and  a  hun- 
dred pounds  cash." 

"I  must  take  it,  my  lord,  I  suppose,"  was 
the  reply,  half-laughing  and  half-doubtful. 
"It  is  a  bit  of  a  come-down  from  the  500  shares 
which  I  asked  for,  though" — he  lowered  his 
voice  and  looked  very  straight  into  Lord 
Eastney 's  eyes — "perhaps  the  hundred  pounds 
cash  is  about  the  value  of  the  other  460 
shares!" 

Lord  Eastney's  face  remained  perfectly 
blank  and  Robinson  looked  a  little  foolish. 
Lady  Eastney  broke  an  awkward  pause  by 
introducing  Miss  Bertram  and  Monica. 

"They  are  waiting  for  Mr.  Franklin,"  she 
said.  "You  really  ought  not  to  keep  him  like 
this  when  he  is  going  away  from  them  alto- 
gether so  soon!  Good-bye,  Miss  Bertram;" — 
she  turned  back  to  the  two  women — "let  me 
know  when  you  come  up  to  London  to  see  your 
nephew.  Be  sure  and  let  me  know.  I  am 
quite  sincere  in  what  I  say.  If  I  can  ever  do 


1 66  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

anything  for  you,  if  I  can  ever  help  you  in  any 
way  at  all,  I  should  like  to. " 

"Your  ladyship  is  very  good,"  said  Miss 
Bertram,  in  some  surprise. 

"Oh!  One  may  have  one's  fancies!"  she 
said,  answering  Miss  Christina's  tone  rather 
than  her  words.  "That  is  a  promise,  then! 
And  who  knows  how  soon  the  time  may  come 
for  its  fulfilment?  Good-bye." 

Left  alone  in  the  passage  with  his  wife  and 
child  the  Marquis  stared  gloomily  at  a  comic 
hunting  picture  on  the  opposite  wall  for  a  min- 
ute. Then  he  asked: — 

"What  made  you  talk  all  that  d — d  rot  to 
her?  Do  you  think  I  want  people  of  that  sort 
hanging  about  me  if  ever  .  .  ." 

"A  whim,"  answered  my  lady  Marchioness 
curtly;  "one  of  my  whims  which  I  shall  gratify 
whenever  and  wherever  I  please.  Come, 
Angela.  .  ,  ." 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

"How  much  longer  is  it  to  go  on?  Am  I  a 
saint,  or  rather  am  I  a  devil,  to  look  on  at  such 
work  being  done  day  after  day  and  say  noth- 
ing? How  much  longer  is  it  to  last?" 

Lady  Eastney  was  raving  up  and  down  the 
drawing-room  of  her  suite  of  rooms  in  the 
North  Stafford  Hotel,  while  her  cousin, 
councillor  and  gentleman-in-waiting  (self- 
appointed  for  life),  Herbert  Alford,  sat  on  the 
window-sill  beating  a  devil's  tattoo  on  the  win- 
dows with  his  fingers,  and  on  the  floor  with  his 
heels  and  toes. 

"I  suppose,"  said  the  councillor  grimly, 
"that  the  longer  it  lasts  the  better  it  will  be  for 
you  and  your  baby. ' ' 

4 'The  better?     .     .     ." 

"I  suppose  money  is  coming  in  from  the 
business.  Well,  you  will  have  the  money." 

"When  the  crash  comes  he  will  give  every 
farthing  of  it  back  to  the  wretched  people  from 
whom  it  has  been  stolen." 

"Will  he?" 

"Well,  I  shall." 
.   The  councillor  laughed. 
167 


1 68  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

"I  would  rather  go  and  earn  my  own  living 
as  a  shop-woman,"  exclaimed  the  woman 
tragically,  "than  take  a  penny  of  his  hor- 
rible money  after  what  I  have  seen  for  the  last 
six  months!" 

"And  Angela?" 

"I  will  take  her  away  and  go  and  earn  my 
own  living." 

"Shop-women  get  about  ^35  a  year  rising  to 
,£60,"  said  the  councillor;  "would  that  keep 
the  baby  in  stockings?" 

"You  must  be  stone,  Bertie,  to  be  able  to 
think  of  those  women's  faces  this  afternoon 
and  talk  in  this  fashion,  knowing  what  is  going 
to  happen  to  them!" 

"What  the  deuce  do  I  know  about  them,  or 
you  either,  my  dear?  They  may  be  the  smart- 
est of  speculators  'buying  for  a  rise. '  They've 
got  a  relation  in  the  business,  right  inside  it, 
and  he  will  warn  them  in  time.  Come,  old 
girl,  there  are  tragedies  enough  in  the  world, 
even  I  allow  in  our  own  little  building  society, 
without  working  yourself  into  this  state  about 
a  half-imaginary  one!  We've  got  a  free 
evening.  Let's  enjoy  ourselves.  There's  a 
theatre  at  Longton  and  the  'Bells'  is  being 
played,  probably  with  a  local  genius  as  hero. 
Let's  go  there  and  laugh.  Do  you  remember 
when  we  saw  it  at  the  Francaise,  and  the  old 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  169 

Grayshaw  cat  insisted  on  coming  into  our  box?" 
Alford  came  over  to  where  Lady  Eastney  had 
flung  herself  into  a  chair  and  put  a  hand  on  to 
her  shoulder:  she  shook  it  off  petulantly,  and 
he  laughed  good-naturedly.  He  was  a  young 
man  who  laughed  at  everything,  at  his  cousin's 
tantrums  out  of  which  he  tried  to  coax  her, 
at  gambling  "wins"  which  he  mostly  spent 
within  twenty-four  hours,  at  gambling  losses 
which  he  was  rarely  able  to  pay,  at  the  admira- 
tion of  women  for  whom  he  did  not  care  and 
the  coldness  of  women  for  whom  he  did,  at  the 
tricks  and  shiftings  of  a  man  trying  to  postpone 
his  tailor's  bill  and  at  the  gigantic  tricks  and 
frauds  of  which  his  cousin's  husband  was  daily 
guilty.  For  his  cousin  herself  he  had  a  tame- 
cat  kind  of  fondness,  passing  most  of  his  time 
at  her  house,  accompanying  her  to  "at  homes" 
and  dances  at  which  Lord  Eastney  was  already 
beginning  to  be  received  with  doubtful  looks 
and  cold  greetings,  and  finally  often  coming 
with  her  on  business  rounds  of  this  description 
where  Lord  Eastney  insisted  on  his  wife 
accompanying  him,  and  on  which  Mr.  Alford 
made  himself  useful  by  ordering  dinner,  teach- 
ing (and  occasionally  helping)  the  hotel  cooks 
and  beating  up  the  neighbourhood  for  possible 
companions. 

A  waiter  appeared  with  a  message  to  ask  if 


170  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

Mr.  Marshall  might  speak  to  Lady  Eastney  for 
a  moment. 

"Bertie!  That  horror  is  here  again!  You 
talk  of  a  free  evening!  There  is  no  freedom 
for  me.  Oh,  show  him  up. ' ' 

Marshall  came  in  perfumed,  smiling,  as  usual. 

"Your  ladyship  will  excuse  me,  I  know.  On 
these  business  tours  we  are  all  at  work  from 
morning  to  night.  Lord  Eastney  has  gone  out 
and  no  one  can  tell  me  when  he  will  be  in 
again.  Can  you  tell  me?" 

"Do  you  know,  Bertie?"  My  lady  passed  on 
the  question,  and  turning  round  in  her  chair 
stared  moodily  at  the  opposite  wall. 

"Couldn't  possibly  say,"  said  Mr.  Alford 
laconically. 

"Do  you  know  where  he  is?" 

"Haven't  the  least  idea." 

Marshall  took  a  seat  uninvited  near  Lady 
Eastney. 

"Your  ladyship  has  been  seeing  quite  a  large 
number  of  our  shareholders  this  afternoon." 

The  Marchioness  responded  by  a  gesture 
which  might  mean  "yes"  or  "no,"  or  that  she 
was  certainly  seeing  one  too  many  of  them  just 
now — probably  the  latter. 

"Very  pleasant  people,  Miss  Bertram  and 
her  niece  are ;  rich  too.  You  had  quite  a  long 
chat  with  them. ' ' 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  171 

My  lady  turned  to  him  with  a  sort  of  gloomy 
interest:  "They  have  everything  in  the  Free- 
hold," she  said,  half  as  if  contradicting  the 
man's  assertion  that  they  were  rich. 

"Miss  Bertram  has;  her  niece  has  a  little 
money  elsewhere :  some  shares  in  the  Carlton 
mines  in  South  Africa." 

"She  has,  has  she?"  said  Alford  with  sudden 
animation,  "that's  good  business  for  her." 

"The  shares  are  not  worth  much  now.  They 
may  be  some  day." 

"Your  information  is  not  quite  as  up  to  date 
as  usual,  Mr.  Marshall.  The  new  machinery 
or  something  has  brought  luck  there.  A  reef 
has  been  discovered  in  the  Carlton  property. 
I  know  a  fellow  who  has  a  few  shares  and 
who  refused  ^5  a-piece  for  them  a  few  days 
ago." 

"You  don't  say  so!"  said  Marshall  with  a 
glow  of  excitement  on  his  face.  "Why,  Miss 
Franklin  has  2000  shares!  That  would  give 
her  ;£io,ooo  if  they  were  sold  at  the  price  you 
mention !  Perhaps  it  may  be  double  that !  It 
is  quite  a  large  fortune  for  people  in  their  class 
of  life!" 

"Has  the  girl  control  of  her  own  money?  Is 
she  of  age?"  The  Marchioness  asked  the  ques- 
tions apparently  of  the  fireplace,  as  she  did  not 
turn  her  head,  but  Marshall  answered. 


172  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

"She  is  not  of  age,  but  a  Mr.  Lowe,  one  of 
our  best  friends  down  here,  is  trustee  of  the 
will  under  which  the  money  comes  to  her. 
Yes,  Lowe  is  a  firm  believer  in  the  Freehold, 
and  would  do  anything  I  told  him  if  Miss 
Franklin  agreed. ' ' 

"So,  of  course" — the  lady  still  addressed  the 
fireplace — "you  will  try  and  get  her  money 
transferred  to  Freehold  shares?" 

"Need  your  ladyship  ask?"  said  Marshall 
with  a  self-satisfied  smile. 

"No,  I  need  not.  Do  you  know  this  Mr. 
Lowe's  exact  powers  in  the  matter?" 

"No,  but  if  your  ladyship  would  like  to  know 
I  could  easily  find  out.  It  is  very  kind  of  your 
ladyship  to  try  and  help  us  in  the  matter. 
Perhaps  if  the  aunt  and  niece  were  invited  to 
the  lunch  here  to-morrow  ...  I  can 
assure  your  ladyship  that  they  are  perfectly 
respectable  persons." 

The  fireplace  had  the  benefit  of  a  fine  faint 
smile.  The  Marchioness  opened  a  little 
painted  fan  and  swung  it  slowly  to  and  fro, 
apparently  considering  something. 

"Yes,"  she  said  at  last.  "I  think  they 
might  be  invited  to-morrow.  Who  has  sent 

out  the  invitations  to  all  these "  my  lady 

suddenly  checked  herself  in  a  word  which 
described  with  some  vigour  and  completeness 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  173 

the  guests  of  to-morrow,  and  changed  it  to 
"persons?" 

"Well,  I  drew  up  the  lists  and  wrote  the 
letters,  and  his  lordship  signed  them.  A  sort 
of  division  of  labour,"  added  Marshall,  essay- 
ing a  little  humour. 

"I  will  write  this  one.  Give  me  my  writing- 
case,  Bertie." 

"It  will  do  just  as  well  after  dinner,"  said 
Alford  in  a  low  voice. 

"Do  you  mind  giving  me  my  writing-case 
thanks." 

Alford  brought  the  old  white  and  gold  case 
to  her  side  and  held  it  for  a  moment,  mutter- 
ing: "Think — please!"  My  lady  took  it  on 
her  knee,  put  a  hand  on  the  worn  old  strap  and 
sat  hesitating,  looking  at  it.  The  white 
morocco  was  yellowing  in  places;  ink-blotches 
were  scattered  over  it;  in  a  corner  was  her 
monogram  with  an  ink-blot  on  it  and  her 
coronet  over  it — the  coronet  for  which  she  had 
sold  love,  youth,  honour,  happiness.  She 
noticed  each  of  the  little  trifles,  and  as  she  sat 
there  with  her  hand  on  the  buckle,  her  cousin 
standing  over  her  with  anxious  perturbed  face, 
a  queer  thought  came  to  her  of  the  mass  of 
letters  which  she  had  written  here,  letters  to 
Angela,  dinner-invitations,  half-joking  love- 
letters  (not  to  Lord  Eastney),  congratulations, 


174  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

condolences,  and  lately  complaints — complaints 
of  friends  growing  cold,  of  society  looking 
askance,  of  snubs  and  whispers  and  half-com- 
prehended questions  and  remarks.  They  rose 
up  before  her  for  some  queer  reason,  the 
ghosts  of  these  letters  written  here,  and  she  sat 
looking  at  them.  They  stayed  in  her  mind 
when  she  at  last  opened  the  case,  and  wrote 
the  commonplace  invitation  to  luncheon,  and 
put  it  in  an  envelope,  and  handed  it  to  Mar- 
shall with  a  curt  nod  and  word  of  dismissal. 

There  was  a  brief  silence  after  Marshall  had 
shut  the  door. 

"You  are  mad,  Frances,"  said  the  young 
man  by  her  side  in  a  sort  of  frightened  whisper. 
"What  are  you  going  to  do?  You  are  not 
really  going  to  warn  these  people?"  There 
was  no  answer  and  he  went  on  in  the  same 
frightened  voice:  "Don't  you  know  that  a 
word  is  enough  now  to  topple  over  the  whole 
affair?  The  women  are  nothing  to  you!  What 
are  you  doing  this  for?" 

"My  husband  asked  me  rather  the  same  sort 
of  question  a  short  time  ago, ' '  said  the  woman 
in  a  low  voice,  but  with  her  cheeks  and  lips 
very  white,  "and  I  answered  that  it  was  a 
whim,  one  of  my  whims  which  I  mean  to 
gratify  whenever  and  wherever  I  please. 
That  answer  must  content  you  too." 


CHAPTER  XIX 

"Angela.     ..." 

"Yes." 

"I  have  just  thought  of  a  story." 

"Tell  it  me,  Bertie;  go  on." 

Bertie  looked  round  him  with  an  unusual 
gravity  on  his  insouciant  young  face.  It  was 
the  morning  of  the  luncheon  party  to  which 
Miss  Bertram  had  at  the  last  moment  been 
invited,  and  very  near  the  luncheon  hour.  In 
the  room  Lady  Eastney  wandered  about  rest- 
lessly, the  diamonds  in  her  laces  flashing  as  she 
passed  across  the  light.  She  had  carefully 
avoided  being  alone  with  Alford  all  the  morn- 
ing, and  now  Miss  Eardly — nominally  govern- 
ess to  Angela,  in  reality  companion  to  herself 
— sat  at  the  table  writing  letters. 

"It  is  a  funny  old  Eastern  story,  a  sort  of 
parable;  you  won't  understand  it." 

"You  always  say  that,"  said  her  little  lady- 
ship with  a  frown  and  a  wriggle;  "now  go 
on." 

"There  was  a  certain  man  who  was  a  famous 
mischief-maker,  who  went  about  the  world 
making  quarrels  and  rows  everywhere.  .  .  ." 


176  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

Angela  settled  herself  down  in  a  chair  with 
her  hands  crossed  and  her  eyes  fixed  raptly  on 
the  speaker  after  the  manner  of  an  eight-year- 
old  audience.  My  lady  stopped  her  rambling 
walk  and  stood  by  the  window  looking  out  and 
swinging  a  blind-tassel  absently  to  and  fro. 

"  .  .  .  One  day  he  came  to  a  town  where 
no  one  ever  quarrelled,  where  no  one  talked 
slander,  and  every  one  was  friends  with  every 
one  else.  The  people  who  knew  him  said:  'It 
is  no  good  coming  here ;  you  can't  make  any 
mischief  here.  If  you  told  the  most  out- 
rageous stories  night  and  day  about  us  no  one 
would  believe  you.  If  you  collected  witnesses 
and  even  appeared  to  prove  one  of  us  guilty  of 
a  crime  you  would  only  be  laughed  at.  You 
had  better  not  waste  your  time  here.'  The 
mischief-maker  laughed  and  said  nothing;  but 
in  the  morning  he  bought  some  honey,  and  put 
a  dab  of  it  outside  a  door. "... 

The  young  man  paused  for  a  moment. 
Angela  was  looking  very  puzzled.  The  blind- 
tassel  swung  steadily  to  and  fro. 

"Well,  and  what  happened?"  asked  the 
Marchioness  with  a  strained  laugh. 

"A  fly  settled  on  the  honey,"  said  Bertie 
laconically;  "a  spider  settled  on  the  fly  and  eat 
him :  a  chameleon  settled  on  the  spider  and  eat 
him;  a  cat  attacked  the  chameleon;  a  dog 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  177 

attacked  the  cat :  the  owner  of  the  cat  attacked 
the  dog:  the  owner  of  the  dog  attacked  the 
owner  of  the  cat :  then  all  the  town  came  out 
and  took  sides.  I  forget  what  happened  to  the 
mischief-maker  himself." 

"As  he  had  no  motive  but  a  desire  to  make 
mischief,"  said  Lady  Eastney,  "he  deserved  a 
bad  end." 

"It  is  too  short,"  said  Lady  Angela,  bewil- 
dered by  the  rapid  conclusion.  "Can't  you 
make  up  some  more?" 

"There  is  no  end  at  all  to  it,  chicken.  The 
uproar  in  the  town,  when  it  once  began,  went 
on  and  on.  No  one  can  guess  the  end  of  that 
story  even  now." 

"Then  tell  me  another,"  said  her  little  lady- 
ship ;  but  if  Mr.  Alford  had  meant  to  comply 
he  was  checked  by  the  entrance  of  Lord 
Eastney  and  Mr.  Robinson. 

Gracefully  and  charmingly  Lady  Eastney 
greeted  the  luncheon-guests  as  they  arrived 
one  after  another,  with  a  word  or  two  and  a 
smile  which  put  every  one  at  their  ease,  a 
deeply  interested  attitude  for  any  one  who 
claimed  her  special  attention,  a  quick  eye  for 
any  one  who  looked  as  if  he  or  she  wanted  to 
speak  to  her  and  dare  not  begin,  and  an  air  of 
never  being  pre-occupied  or  having  any  other 
care  than  to  listen  to  her  companion  of  the 


178  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

moment.  Angela  moved  about  with  her, 
receiving  head-pats  and  hand-shakes  with 
polite  resignation.  Bertie  did  his  duty  too  as 
far  as  he  could,  though  a  little  out  of  his  ele- 
ment, in  a  company  which  did  not  make  or 
understand  jokes.  Presently  lunch  was  an- 
nounced, and  the  company,  some  two  dozen 
in  number,  took  their  places  after  a  certain 
amount  of  shuffling  about.  Mr.  Robinson,  Mr. 
Nicholson,  senior,  and  one  or  two  others, 
wanted  to  be  near  Lady  Eastney,  and  there 
was  a  little  scuffling  near  her  end  of  the  table. 
Luke  Robinson  found  himself  standing  near 
Angela  and  began  an:  "Ah,  Miss  Angela,  you 
are  coming  to  sit  next  to  me.  That's  right. 
I'll  give  you  plenty  of  pudding,"  and  Lord 
Eastney  called  out:  "Oh,  she  is  a  great  admirer 
of  yours,  Robinson ;  take  charge  of  her  if  you 
like  by  all  means."  The  Marchioness  was 
passing  up  the  room  just  then,  and  the  little 
one  turned  to  her  with  half-raised  arms  and  a 
passion  of  frightened  appeal  in  her  eyes;  but 
the  woman  only  stooped  and  whispered:  "It 
won't  be  for  long,  my  baby,"  and  went  on  to 
her  place  with  her  own  words  echoing  oddly  in 
her  ears.  "It  won't  be  for  long"  .  .  .  she 
had  only  meant  to  assure  the  scared  little 
mortal  that  this  luncheon  and  the  company  of 
Mr.  Robinson  would  not  last  long,  but  as  she 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  179 

took  her  place  at  the  end  of  the  table  and 
looked  down  it  her  words  seemed  to  repeat 
themselves  with  some  wider  meaning.  Not  for 
long  .  .  .  ?  Well,  she  for  one  did  not  care 
how  soon  it  ended. 

Thoroughly  accustomed  to  such  parties  as 
that  over  which  she  was  now  presiding,  Lady 
Eastney  soon  had  her  guests  eating  and  drink- 
ing, talking  and  laughing  at  their  ease,  and 
found  herself  with  leisure  to  look  round. 
Monica,  whose  face  caught  her  eye  first,  was 
sitting  between  a  good-looking  well-groomed 
young  man  who  evidently  was  or  ought  to  be 
her  lover,  and  another  whose  sullen  face  was  a 
curious  study.  She  knew  the  latter — it  was 
Muirhead  —  and  said  to  herself,  "There  is 
crime  in  that  man's  mind;  I  wonder  what  is 
wrong."  Then  she  watched  Miss  Bertram  for 
a  moment  and  muttered:  "That  woman  looks 
like  a  sort  of  harbour  of  refuge  from  all  the 
ills  of  life.  I  should  like  to  go  and  stay  with 
her  and  have  a  long,  long  cry,  with  her  to  con- 
sole me  through  it,  and  then  go  to  sleep  for  a 
week  with  her  sitting  by  me.  How  astonished 
she  would  be  if  I  told  her  so  .  .  .  !"  Then 
Mrs.  Robinson  claimed  her  attention  with  a 
narrative  of  how  her  husband  had  got  the  best 
of  Canon  Ho  bar  t  in  an  altercation  about  cer- 
tain rates, 


i8o  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

After  lunch  she  moved  away  with  Miss  Ber- 
tram and  Monica  into  a  corner  of  the  drawing- 
room. 

"We  hear  that  your  niece  has  had  a  great 
piece  of  luck  with  some  South  African  shares," 
she  began. 

"We  have  heard  it  this  morning.  Does  your 
ladyship  understand  these  South  African  affairs 
at  all?" 

"Not  in  the  least.  Very  few  people  do. 
Have  you  some  good  advisers?" 

"My  lawyer  is  Mr.  Benson.  He  is  standing 
just  there  talking  to  Mr.  Robinson." 

"I  see.  Have  you — please  forgive  these 
apparently  impertinent  questions — have  you 
spoken  to  him  about  the  matter  yet?" 

"I  saw  him  this  morning  and  he  spoke  to  me 
again  here  just  before  lunch.  He  says  that 
such  shares  go  up  and  down  every  day  for 
reasons  which  we  down  in  the  country  know 
nothing  about,  and  could  not  possibly  foresee, 
and  that  we  had  better  sell  these  shares  at  once 
now  that  they  are  up." 

"That  sounds  sensible." 

"And  he  said  that  he  could  get  us  some 
more  shares  in  the  Freehold  with  the  money 
just  now  if  we  liked;  and  if  Mr.  Lowe,  who  is 
a  trustee  of  Monica's,  would  consent." 

"Yes?    .     .     .     Miss    Bertram,    I   want    to 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  181 

give  you  some  advice.  I  know  what  I  am  say- 
ing and  I  mean  what  I  say.  You  are  listening 
to  me?" 

"Naturally,  my  lady." 

"Don't  put  that  money  into  the  Freehold. 
You  have  some  shares  in  it  yourself  now?" 

"A  large  number." 

"Sell  them.  .  .  .  Shall  you  accept  my 
advice?" 

"But  if  your  ladyship  would  only     .     .     ." 

"I  cannot  say  any  more  or  argue  about  the 
matter  at  all.  It  is  a  very  serious  affair  my 
having  said  this.  It  is  so  serious  that  I  even" ' — 
the  woman  hesitated,  looked  round  the  room 
with  a  look  of  infinite  scorn,  began  another 
sentence,  caught  sight  of  Angela,  and  then 
began  the  first  again — "I  even  ask  you  not 
to  use  my  name  in  connection  with  it  if  you 
can  help  it.  That  is  rather  a  painful — 
rather  a  humiliating  request  to  make,  and 
I  cannot  possibly  force  you  to  promise  what 
I  ask." 

"I  promise  most  willingly  never  to  mention 
your  ladyship's  name,"  said  Miss  Bertram,  "and 
I  have  to  thank  you  sincerely  for  advising  us. 
We  must  think  a  little,  but  we  shall  probably 
take  your  advice." 

"Yes.  That  is  all  right."  Lady  Eastney 
rose  with  a  smile  on  her  white  lips  and  a  look 


1 82  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

in  her  eyes  which  flashed  terror  into  those  of 
Bertie  Alford  as  he  came  up  to  her. 

"You  have  done  it  after  all?"  he  muttered. 

"Yes." 

"Then  a  sauve  qui peut  begins  here  this  after- 
noon, and  ends — where?" 

"It  is  nothing  to  me." 

"Or  Angela?" 

"Or  to  Angela,  thank  you." 

"Just  wait  and  see!" 


CHAPTER    XX 

Gerald  Franklin  permitted  himself  a  certain 
amount  of  enthusiasm  on  his  first  visit  to  Lon- 
don. .  .  He  had  never  been  there  before 
even  for  a  day,  and  when  the  night  express 
arrived  at  Euston  on  this  Saturday  evening  in 
August,  and  he  had  said  good-bye  to  Lord 
Eastney  and  Marshall  on  the  platform  and  put 
himself  and  his  luggage  into  a  hansorn,  he  con- 
fessed to  himself  that  he  felt  excited.  It  was  a 
pity  that  Great  Ormond  Street  where  his 
cousin  lived  was  so  close  by,  but  that  again 
had  its  advantages,  as  he  was  hungry.  Next 
morning  he  went  with  the  Ethridges,  his 
cousins,  to  chapel  in  Red  Lion  Square,  behav- 
ing with  great  propriety  as  was  his  wont,  and 
at  last  found  himself  free  to  go  out  for  a  walk. 
A  young  man  of  the  Ethridge  family  accom- 
panied him  along  Holborn,  New  Oxford  Street, 
and  Oxford  Street  to  the  Park,  pointing  out 
shops,  houses,  and  music-halls,  with  a  list  of 
their  occupants  and  performers  and  the 
incomes  made  by  each,  and  all  the  current 
gossip  about  them.  What  a  young  Londoner 
183 


184  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

of  this  class  does  not  know  about  London  is  not 
worth  knowing.  In  the  Park  Sydney  Ethridge 
showed  various  celebrities  of  a  minor  order 
who  were  in  town  in  spite  of  the  season,  but 
Gerald,  who  had  listened  to  him  in  the  com- 
parative silence  and  desertion  of  a  Sunday 
afternoon  in  Oxford  Street,  grew  absorbed  in 
the  crowds  here  and  hardly  heard.  A  crowd 
fascinated  him  always  and  everywhere :  it  was 
the  only  object  which  brought  his  imagination 
into  play  and  he  could  have  spent  days  here, 
simply  looking,  cataloguing  and  criticising. 
Although  it  was  August,  numerous  carriages 
were  passing  up  and  down  the  Row,  and 
Sydney  pointed  out  a  well-known  face  or  two. 
Women  with  the  eyes  and  mouths  of  English 
great  ladies  —  (you  distinguish  English 
"grandes  dames"  by  their  mouths  and  eyes  as 
you  do  French  by  their  speech) — sat  here  and 
there  under  the  trees  daintily  dressed,  flutter- 
ing their  lace  parasols  in  lines  of  shady  sum- 
mer colours.  Men  sat  by  them  smoking 
cigarettes,  the  slight  touch  of  inanity  and  of 
general  resemblance  to  one  another  as  of  a 
flock  of  sheep  (whereas  in  an  assembly  of 
Frenchmen  you  will  not  notice  two  alike  and 
will  see  a  hundred  different  expressions  on 
each  face  in  as  many  seconds)  being  redeemed 
by  their  fresh  healthy  cleanliness  and  generally 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  185 

well-groomed  appearance.  A  man  or  two  rode 
by  on  a  park  hack,  glancing  right  and  left  with 
defiance  in  his  eyes  as  one  who  would  say, 
"This  animal  may  be  almost  extinct,  but  I  pre- 
fer it  to  all  others  and  choose  to  keep  it." 
Victorias  full  of  country  folk,  some  frankly 
enjoying  the  spectacle,  others  trying  to  look  as 
if  they  were  passing  just  once  more  through  an 
old  and  weary  scene,  moved  slowly  by.  Lady 
Eastney  drove  past  with  Angela,  on  her  way 
to  Hurlingham,  and  with  that  instinctive  feel- 
ing possessed  by  certain  people  that  some  one 
is  waiting  to  salute  them,  she  turned  to  the 
side  path  and  greeted  Gerald  with  a  bow  and 
smile  which  filled  Sydney  with  respectful 
astonishment. 

"My  eye!"  he  said,  "are  we  in  the  upper 
circles  already?  Shall  we  dine  in  Belgrave 
Square  to-night?  If  I'd  known  I  was  coming 
out  walking  with  such  a  toff  I'd  have  put  on 
my  new  pink  tie.  That's  Knightsbridge  Bar- 
racks, my  young  swell.  Say  now,  would  you 
like  to  come  down  the  river?  There's  time  to 
get  down  to  Richmond.  Mother  likes  some  of 
us  to  come  to  chapel  with  her  in  the  evening, 
but  Susan  and  Mike  can  go  to-night.  I  like 
Richmond  myself." 

"Have  we  time  for  another  walk  to  the  other 
end  of  the  road  and  back?" 


1 86  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

"No,  not  to  go  to  Richmond  afterwards,  but 
I  don't  care  about  it,"  said  the  other  good- 
naturedly.  "Come  along,  my  young  lord!" 

Pedestrians  and  vehicles  grew  more  numer- 
ous as  the  afternoon  wore  on,  and  Gerald 
walked  along  absorbed  and  fascinated.  This 
London  pleasure-crowd  seemed  much  gayer 
than  those  to  which  he  was  used  in  the  country. 
Working  men  and  their  families,  playing 
games,  arranging  tea  or  eating  oranges  under 
the  trees,  laughed,  chatted,  moved  about  more 
gaily  than  their  fellows  in  Trentham  Woods  or 
Clough  Hall.  If  the  faces  of  the  society  young 
men  were  vacuous,  their  voices  and  laughter 
were  pleasant  and  ready:  their  mothers,  sisters 
and  cousins  moved  past  in  a  flutter  of  soft  silks 
and  laces  and  rippling  laughter  which  was 
inspiriting.  He  remembered  a  phrase  about 
English  folk  taking  their  pleasure  sadly,  and 
rather  wondered  what  it  meant.  The  phrase 
is  certainly  out  of  date.  Perhaps  it  is  a  satiety 
of  ordinary  amusements,  together  with  a  large 
increase  in  their  cost,  which  has  made  English 
youth  of  all  classes  more  ready  to  be  pleased 
by  a  walk  and  a  chat  and  a  look  at  their  neigh- 
bours, more  grateful  for  mere  sunshine,  green 
trees  and  companionship.  But  whatever 
the  reason,  it  is  certain  that  that  idly  saun- 
tering crowd,  asking  for  nothing  but  life 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  187 

and  sunshine  and  plenty  of  neighbours,  which 
used  to  be  characteristic  of  the  Champs 
Elysees  and  boulevards  of  Paris,  has  come  to 
London. 

The  Ethridges  assembled  at  supper  at  nine 
o'clock,  and  Sydney  detailed  the  course  of  their 
afternoon's  walk. 

"You'd  hardly  think  it  was  August,"  he 
added,  "to  see  the  Row.  As  full  of  folk  it  was 
as  if  it  was  the  middle  of  June." 

"Well,  I'm  glad  there  was  something  for  you 
to  see,  Gerald,"  said  Mr.  Ethridge,  "though 
such  sights  are  stupid  to  go  and  look  at  more 
than  once." 

"Many  pretty  girls  about?"  asked  Michael, 
the  elder  brother. 

"I  didn't  notice  any,"  said  the  boy,  simply. 

"You  must  be  difficult  to  please,"  retorted 
Sydney. 

"I  don't  mean  there  weren't  any.  I  simply 
didn't  see  them.  I  was  thinking  of  something 
else — that  it  was  odd  how  contented  people 
were.  Fancy  seeing  a  heap  of  folk  like  that 
richer  than  yourself  every  Sunday,  and  being 
satisfied!" 

"There  must  always  be  rich  and  poor,"  said 
Ethridge,  sententiously. 

"Anybody  can  get  rich  who  likes  to  try," 
said  Gerald. 


1 88  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

"Do  you  mean  to  try?"  asked  a  girl  sitting 
opposite  to  him. 

"Yes,"  said  the  boy  quietly,  but  with  a  cer- 
tain compression  of  the  lips  as  if  the  sight  of 
Hyde  Park  had  given  him  a  new  impatience,  a 
new  resolve. 

Susan  Ethridge  looked  at  him  with  a  little 
touch  of  admiration  in  her  eyes,  which  Gerald 
saw  and  approved  of.  The  boyish  look  on  his 
face  was  rather  a  pleasant  one,  until  with  a 
succession  of  considerable  shocks  the  real 
Gerald  revealed  himself.  The  young  man's 
eyes  were  grey,  and  clear,  and  steady,  his  skin 
fresh  and  fair,  his  mouth  and  chin  strong  and 
well-shaped.  If  his  face  was  young  the  assur- 
ance of  his  manner  gave  some  appearance  of 
age,  and  several  women,  chiefly  older  than 
himself,  had  before  now  expressed  some  liking 
for  him.  Susan  Ethridge,  who  loved  laugh- 
ter, cynicism,  good-looks,  and  ambition,  had 
already  come  to  the  conclusion  that  Gerald  was 
a  very  agreeable  addition  to  their  household. 
She  had  passed  her  twenty-five  years  in  a 
rather  sombre  round  of  learning  lessons  and 
teaching  them,  and  was  beginning  to  revolt 
inwardly  against  it.  Her  parents  disapproved 
of  theatres,  dancing,  and  most  other  entertain- 
ments: especially  they  disapproved  of  any 
amusement  on  Sunday,  which  was  Susan's  only 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  189 

holiday  from  the  small  pupils  to  whom  on  those 
dreary  week-days  she  taught  scales  and  sums. 
She  neither  complained  nor  rebelled:  the 
steady  gloom  of  the  girl's  home  life  had  so 
eaten  into  her  heart,  that  she  hardly  had  spirit 
to  wish  for  any  brightness,  and  under  favour- 
able circumstances  would  probably  marry  a 
friend  of  her  father's,  and  initiate  a  home  and 
family  of  her  own  on  exactly  similar  lines. 
The  father  was  absorbed  in  his  work  and  reli- 
gion, talking  and  thinking  of  nothing  else.  At 
meal-time,  breakfast  and  supper,  he  carried  on 
a  portentous  monologue  on  one  of  the  two 
subjects,  speaking  slowly  and  impressively,  and 
so  giving  you  the  idea  that  what  he  Avas  saying 
was  worth  listening  to — which  it  was  not. 
Mrs.  Ethridge  said:  "Indeed,  Mr.  Ethridge, 
that  is  quite  true,"  at  regular  intervals.  Syd- 
ney and  Michael,  both  clerks  in  a  neighbouring 
accountant's  office,  were  asked  occasionally  for 
an  account  of  how  they  had  spent  their  day, 
and  gave  it  obediently,  but  otherwise  no  one 
spoke.  The  arrival  of  this  cousin  to  board 
with  them  was  the  most  exciting  event  which 
had  ever  taken  place  in  their  lives,  and  for  a 
short  time  it  quite  demoralised  them.  The 
mother  glanced  about  her,  now  at  her  husband, 
now  at  her  children,  a  little  anxiously  as  this 
conversation  sprang  up,  with  the  inquiring 


190  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

look  which  a  hen  might  give  to  the  cock  and 
her  chickens  if  a  duckling  appeared  and  invited 
the  party  to  come  out  swimming.  She  inter- 
vened with  a  narrative  of  having  been  that 
afternoon  to  read  to  some  children  in  the 
adjacent  hospital.  Then  Mr.  Ethridge  dis- 
coursed on  the  necessity  for,  and  advantages  of 
suffering,  while  the  others  eat  their  way  silently 
through  cold  beef  and  pickles  and  a  cold  cus- 
tard pudding.  Gerald  looked  up  once  and 
caught  Susan  looking  at  him  with  pity  and 
apology;  he  gave  her  a  just  perceptible  grate- 
ful smile  in  reply.  The  little  understanding 
brought  them  together  after  supper;  and  the 
girl  spoke  to  him  with  a  kindly  elder-sister  air 
which  was  rather  pretty. 

"What  used  you  to  do  in  the  evenings  at 
home?" 

"Oh,  nothing.  I  very  often  had  work  to 
do." 

"Did  you  and  Monica  go  to  theatres  or 
parties  much?" 

"Not  very  often.  There  are  some  good 
theatres  near  us,  but  really  I  didn't  care  for 
them.  I  think  acting  is  simply  stupid." 

"It  is  so,  my  dear  boy.  It  is  a  form  of 
trifling  with  the  stern  realities  of  life  and  death 
which  I  cannot  think  to  be  right.  I  say  to  my 
children,  'What  would  you  do  if  the  Last 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  191 

Trump  should  sound  and  call  you  to  judgment 
as  you  sat  laughing  at  the  fooleries  of  .  .  '  " 

Another  sermon  had  begun  and  Gerald  sat 
down  with  an  air  of  quiet  resignation,  but  the 
few  words  with  his  cousin  had  left  a  warm 
feeling  in  both  hearts  which  even  Mr.  Eth- 
ridge's  Sunday  night  discourse  could  not  quite 
kill. 

Next  morning  Gerald  went  to  his  work  at  the 
head  offices  of  the  Freehold  Building  Society 
in  Southampton  Row,  and  found  business 
there  in  very  much  the  same  condition  as  in 
Staffordshire.  The  officials  were  mostly  sim- 
ple, ignorant  men  with  money  in  the  Society 
and  very  little  knowledge  of  its  work.  Their 
tasks  were  apportioned  in  such  fashion  that  no 
man  saw  the  connection  between  his  neigh- 
bour's work  and  his  own.  Marshall,  Lord 
Eastney  and  a  big  house-agent  named  Margets 
were  the  only  three  who  knew  what  was  going 
on.  None  of  them  were  present  when  Frank- 
lin arrived,  and  he  was  given  certain  accounts 
and  books  on  which  Seymour,  his  predecessor, 
had  been  engaged,  and  was  asked  to  finish 
them.  "What  a  stupid  mass  of  confusion!"  he 
said  to  Ethridge  after  an  hour's  work. 
"Where  do  these  figures  come  from?  Who 
paid  the  bill  for  these  roads  being  made,  and 
where  are  the  details  and  the  receipt?" 


192  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

Ethridge  looked  stupidly  at  the  papers  and 
admitted  ignorance:  "If  they  aren't  there,  you 
must  leave  them  out,"  he  said;  "of  course,  in 
a  big  London  business  we  have  not  so  much 
time  to  give  to  little  trifles  as  you  have  had  in 
Staffordshire;"  and  Gerald  laughed  inwardly. 
He  had  obviously  been  brought  here  and  given 
this  post  as  a  bribe  to  hold  his  tongue,  and  he 
hardly  supposed  that  the  directors  wanted  work 
of  this  sort  examined  into  very  closely.  Mar- 
gets  came  in  next  day,  and  Ethridge,  with  an 
air  of  patronage  of  his  cousin  which  amused 
the  lad  considerably,  introduced  him,  and  said 
that  he  had  been  showing  Gerald  the  work,  and 
that  Gerald  would  soon  understand  it.  Of 
course  the  difference  between  London  and 
country  business  made  beginning  here  a  little 
difficult  for  the  boy:  these  accounts  left  by 
young  Seymour,  for  instance,  had  puzzled  him 
considerably.  Margets  took  up  the  bundle  of 
papers  referring  to  some  South  Kensington 
flats  and  began  some  good-natured  explana- 
tions, while  Ethridge  left  the  room.  Franklin 
did  not  mean  to  have  his  position  in  these 
offices  misunderstood  by  any  of  the  superiors. 

"I  quite  understand  all  the  points  which  you 
refer  to,"  he  said,  with  a  slighting  laugh; 
"only  this  road  has  apparently  been  made 
without  payment — at  any  rate  without  receipted 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  193 

payment.  However  .  ,  . "  he  laughed 
again,  and  Margets  looked  frightened. 

Presently  Marshall  entered  with  Lord 
Eastney.  He  came  up  to  Gerald's  desk  and 
put  a  letter  down  there — a  letter  from  Benson 
saying  that  Miss  Bertram  had  given  instruc- 
tions for  the  sale  of  all  her  shares  in  the  Free- 
hold. "What  does  that  mean?"  he  asked. 
"Do  you  know?" 

"I  told  you  that  you  would  have  to  take  the 
chance  of  Robinson's  meaning  mischief,"  said 
the  boy  after  reading  the  letter.  "I  am  rather 
surprised  myself.  I  doubted  his  having  the 
courage  for  a  move  of  this  kind.  I  know  noth- 
ing about  it,  but  I  suppose  it  is  his  doing." 

"It  is  a  bad  business,  whoever  has  done  it," 
said  Marshall.  "What  do  you  think,  my  lord?" 

"I  should  say,"  said  Lord  Eastney,  in  a  low 
voice  which  only  Marshall  could  hear,  "that  it 
is  the  beginning  of  the  end." 


CHAPTER    XXI 

Muirhead  had  been  passing  through  a  ter- 
rible time.  With  Nicholson  every  day  in  the 
office  as  a  constant  reminder  of  his  failure,  with 
the  daily  increasing  vague  suspicions  of  finan- 
cial difficulties,  and  with  a  new  and  most 
unpleasant  feeling  of  responsibility  for  the 
management  of  the  Freehold,  he  was  very 
unhappy.  Gerald's  departure  revealed  to  the 
poor,  thick-headed  man  how  dull  his  wits 
really  were  in  comparison  with  the  sharpers 
and  clients  with  whom  he  had  to  deal.  He 
went  through  the  bundles  of  papers  which 
came  down  day  after  day  with  uneasy  wonder, 
longing  to  have  back  by  his  side  the  impassive, 
cynical  young  face  which  used  to  bend  over 
these  documents  and  take  in  all  their  contents 
in  one  contemptuous  glance;  the  cool,  cock- 
sure voice  which  used  to  decree  that  those 
figures  meant  so  and  so,  and  were  to  be  entered 
in  such  and  such  a  place.  He  realised  now 
how  completely  he  had  been  the  subordinate 
and  Gerald  the  master. 

During  the  weeks  which  elapsed  between 
194 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  195 

Franklin's  departure  and  young  Nicholson's, 
Muirhead  allowed  a  passion  of  hatred  for  his 
rival  to  grow  upon  him  which  frightened  him- 
self. Reggie  now  took  Franklin's  seat  in  the 
inner  office,  and  Muirhead  sat  opposite  to  him, 
staring  at  him  sometimes  with  heavy,  angry 
eyes,  forgetting  all  business  in  wondering 
when  the  lad  had  seen  Monica  last,  what  she 
had  said  to  him,  whether  they  had  been  talking 
about  himself,  whether  Reggie  knew  that  he 
himself  had  proposed  to  the  girl,  and  whether 
even  now  perhaps  there  was  some  chance  of 
the  engagement  coming  to  an  end.  With  his 
eyes  fixed  on  the  young  man's  bent  head  he 
would  imagine  to  himself  the  love  words  which 
had  passed  between  them,  the  whispered 
tendernesses  which  he  had  pictured  himself  as 
murmuring  to  her,  the  movements  of  wander- 
ing hands,  searching  for  and  finding  one 
another.  His  mind  at  last  settled  on  this 
point,  and  at  intervals  in  the  day  he  would  find 
himself  staring  furtively  at  Nicholson's  hands, 
wondering  when  they  had  last  touched  Monica. 
He  watched  the  long  moving  fingers  with 
growing  fascination,  saying  to  himself ,  "Yester- 
day they  touched  her  cheek,  were  round  her 
neck,  stroked  her  hair;  this  very  evening  they 
will  hold  her  hands  while  I  am  sitting  in  my 
room  reading  dull  letters  of  this  and  that 


196  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

tradesman,  or  turning  the  dreary  pages  of  some 
unreal  story."  Then  slowly  a  feeling  would 
creep  over  him  that  he  must  do  some  injury  to 
those  hands,  that  he  would  pay  money,  would 
give  months  of  his  life,  to  tear  them,  to  wrench 
them  off  and  mutilate  them.  The  idea  would 
pass  away  with  a  sudden  flash  of  terror  lest 
this  should  be  another  symptom  of  coming 
insanity,  and  with  a  violent  effort  he  would 
return  to  his  work.  Sometimes,  when  the 
hatred  in  him  grew  very  strong,  he  would 
attempt  by  heaping  up  unnecessary  tasks  to 
prevent  the  lovers  from  meeting  during  the 
afternoon,  but  from  some  words  dropped  by 
Reggie  one  day  he  learnt  that  the  young  man 
merely  went  to  Hartshill  in  the  evening 
instead.  The  picture  of  this  meeting  in  the 
summer  twilight  with  only  the  stars  to  see  the 
lovers,  ancl  with  only  the  nightingales  to  inter- 
rupt their  whispers,  was  the  keenest  torture  of 
all.  He  loved  the  girl  passionately,  furiously ; 
he  could  not  bear  to  meet  her  and  hated  not  to 
meet  her;  he  loathed  the  sight  of  Reggie 
Nicholson  and  was  half  wild  when  he  was  out 
of  sight  because  he  would  of  course  be  with 
Monica.  And  above  and  through  and  under 
all  these  hatreds  and  fears  and  imaginations 
was  the  daily  and  hourly  terror  of  another  brain 
failure,  of  another  of  those  intervals  when  time 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  197 

had  ceased  and  responsibility  finished,  and 
from  which  he  would  wake  with  horrified 
wonder  as  to  where  he  was  and  what  he  had 
been  doing. 

Life  became  so  utterly  unendurable  to  Muir- 
head  by  the  end  of  August  that  he  first  of  all 
asked  for  a  holiday,  although  he  had  taken  his 
usual  fortnight's  leave  of  absence,  and  this 
request  having  been  refused,  looked  round 
eagerly  for  some  local  diversion.  Evenings  at 
Clough  Hall  or  Trenthan,  afternoons  at 
Longton  or  Hanley  afforded  him  not  the  slight- 
est interest  or  amusement.  In  the  former 
place  he,  who  had  so  few  friends  and  acquaint- 
ances nowadays  (since  one  would  as  soon  court 
the  companionship  of  the  lethargetic  but 
uncertain-tempered  python  or  the  lively  and 
certain-tempered  mad  dog,  as  that  of  a  love- 
sick man  who  has  tried  for  his  prize  and  failed) 
was  as  much  alone  with  his  thoughts  as  in  his 
own  rooms.  In  the  theatres  a  dozen  scenes 
would  be  sure  to  take  place  reminding  him  of 
his  misery.  One  day,  seeing  an  advertisement 
on  the  walls  of  Stoke  announcing  a  special 
train  to  the  Manchester  Races,  he  determined 
to  go  there,  and  accordingly  one  Thursday 
morning  found  himself  in  company  with  a 
large  number  of  more  or  less  familiar  faces  in 
a  train  going  to  Manchester.  It  occurred  to 


198  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

him  more  than  once  that  this  proceeding  on 
the  part  of  the  local  manager  of  the  Freehold 
Building  Society,  so  many  of  whose  members 
and  patrons  put  "Reverend"  before  their 
names  either  by  recognized  right  or  by  freak  of 
their  own  playful  fancy,  might  excite  some 
highly  unfavourable  comment,  but  he  cared 
very  little  for  that  nowadays.  Not  only  was  all 
other  thought  absorbed  by  his  desire  to  cure 
this  miserable  condition  of  mind,  but  he  was 
beginning  to  feel  that  the  work  of  the  Building 
Society  was  beyond  his  powers,  and  that  he 
did  not  care  how  soon  he  was  freed  from  it. 

Manchester  Racecourse,  with  the  approaches 
thereto,  the  Stands  thereon,  and  the  view 
therefrom,  is  about  the  ugliest  place  of  its  kind 
in  Europe,  but  as  few  people  who  go  there 
wish  to  admire  scenery,  this  is  not  of  great 
importance.  The  crowds  are  large,  sporting  in 
looks  and  language,  and  sentiments,  tolerant  of 
all  things  except  the  victories  of  outsiders, 
hopeful  of  better  things  when  they  have  lost 
money,  and  jocularly  content  when  they  have 
won.  If  it  is  not  quite  such  a  perfect  sporting 
crowd  as  that  of  York  or  Doncaster,  it  is  many 
degrees  better  than  the  languid  picnic- 
assembly  of  Sandown  Park  or  the  army  of 
scamps  and  roughs  who  patronise  Brighton. 
Muirhead,  however,  was  paying  his  first  visit 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  199 

to  a  racecourse,  and  was  not  hypercritical, 
being  indeed  more  occupied  in  trying  to  dis- 
cover what  it  was  all  about.  He  saw  numbers 
and  names  on  a  board,  horses  and  jockeys  in 
various  colours,  a  race  with  a  close  finish  which 
the  onlookers  cheered  excitedly,  and  which  did 
not  interest  him  in  the  least.  The  contest 
between  the  two  horses  which  had  finished  first 
and  second  might  or  might  not  have  been 
exciting ;  he  was  willing  to  believe  that  it  was, 
but  he  himself  was  not  excited  by  it.  He 
watched  three  races,  one  after  another  in  this 
fashion,  finding  some  momentary  interest  in 
the  excited  conversations  and  alternating  joy 
and  despair  of  the  men  who  stood  near  him, 
then  sighed  heavily,  and  made  his  way  towards 
the  gate,  meaning  to  go  home.  To  watch 
another  of  these  contests  between  galloping 
horses  and  flogging  jockeys,  seemed  to  him  the 
most  dreary  of  prospects.  The  shouting  and 
excitement  of  the  spectators  were  totally  incom- 
prehensible to  him,  the  result  of  the  race 
hopelessly  uninteresting. 

At  the  gate  just  before  he  went  out,  he  met 
a  certain  Robert  Fairlegh,  a  tradesman  in 
Newcastle  whom  he  knew  slightly — so  slightly 
in  fact  that  he  was  considerably  astonished  at 
Fairlegh's  hearty  greeting  and  his:  "You  look 
pretty  blue,  mister!  Were  you  on  Cordova?" 


2OO  Resolved  to  be  Rich  * 

Muirhead  was  not  of  course  aware  that  among 
the  touches  of  nature  which  make  the  whole 
world  akin,  is  the  backing  of  an  unsuccessful 
favourite. 

"I  don't  know  anything  about  Cordova,"  he 
answered  gloomily,  "but  I  am  very  dull  here, 
and  I  am  going  away." 

"Oh,  you've  been  hit  rather  hard,  I  see!" 
answered  Fairlegh,  who  had  been  drowning 
memory  of  the  treacherous  Cordova  in  whisky, 
and  was  indeed  in  a  condition  in  which  one 
sees  either  nothing  or  double.  "Come  and 
have  another  try.  I  know  a  really  good  thing 
for  the  next  race.  Lighter  is  bound  to  win, — 
a  stone  blind  certainty  he  is.  George  Hickson 
says  so,  and  if  George  Hickson  doesn't  know 
what  he  is  talking  about,  nobody  in  this  world 
never  knew  nothing  about  nothing  at  all.  Come 
and  get  your  money  back  on  Lighter. ' ' 

"I  haven't  lost  any  money,"  said  Muirhead 
pettishly,  becoming  angry  at  the  attention 
which  was  being  attracted  towards  him  by  this 
loud-voiced  sympathy.  "I  haven't  been  bet- 
ting. I  haven't  come  here  to  bet." 

"Then  what  the  have  you  come  here 

for?"  asked  Fairlegh,  sympathetic  but  puzzled. 
"When  things  go  wrong,  curse  them  till  they 
go  right  again,"  and  this  Mr.  Fairlegh  pro- 
ceeded to  do  for  the  space  of  half  a  minute, 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  201 

making  up  by  the  wide  extent  of  his  expletives 
for  some  slight  uncertainty  as  to  what  he  was 
swearing  about. 

He  had  however  taken  Muirhead  in  such  a 
firm  grip  that  in  order  to  avoid  a  row,  or  at  any 
rate  in  order  to  change  the  auditors  of  the 
present  row,  Muirhead  moved  back  with  him 
towards  the  ring.  The  numbers  were  going 
up  for  the  fourth  race  as  they  came  back,  and 
Fairlegh  ordered  Muirhead  in  a  thick  but  confi- 
dent voice  to  notice  that  Leslie  was  riding 
Lighter. 

"So  he's  bound  to  win,  old  pal,"  said  the 
man,  who  was  of  course  now  on  such  close 
terms  of  intimacy  as  whisky  and  "tipping" 
combined  must  produce.  "So  you  put  all 
you've  got  on  him.  Here's  young  Nick  Lunn, 
a  very  honest  man  young  Nick  Lunn  is,  just 
the  man  to  do  your  business  for  you  young 
Nick  Lunn  is.  What  odds  Lighter,  Nick?" 

"Fives." 

"And  a bad  price  too,  but  it  is  no  good 

arguing  with  you.  You  can  give  me  fifty  to 
ten,  Nick,  and  you  can  give  my  friend  the 
same.  Hand  over  a  tenner  to  Nick,  my  boy!" 

"Stop  talking  nonsense,"  said  Muirhead, 
angrily.  "I  haven't  gotten  pounds,  and  cer- 
tainly shouldn't  bet  them  if  I  had.  I  have  only 
got  two  pounds  with  me." 


2O2  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

"Only  two  quid  left!  You  must  have 
dropped  a  lot  over  Cordova,"  said  Fairlegh, 
with  almost  tearful  sympathy.  "Well,  hand  it 
over!  Put  him  down  ten  to  two,  Nick." 

Several  other  men  were  standing  behind 
Muirhead  pushing  impatiently,  ordering  him 
to  make  haste ;  and  regarding  the  transaction 
merely  as  an  expensive  means  of  escaping  from 
the  scene,  Muirhead  handed  over  his  money  to 
the  bookmaker  and  moved  away.  Fairlegh, 
however,  stuck  to  him,  and  leading  him  to  a 
stand  close  by  pointed  out  the  horses  as  they 
cantered  down  to  the  starting  post. 

"That's  Lighter,"  he  said,  "in  the  pink  and 
black  cap.  A  fidgety  little  devil  he  is,  but 
you'll  see  Leslie  won't  stand  any  nonsense  with 
him.  Now  you'll  see  that  with  brute  Queen 
Mab  dancing  about  there'll  be  a  breakaway. 
There  you  are,  you  see."  Half-a-dozen  horses 
were,  in  fact,  flying  along  the  course,  and 
Mr.  Fairlegh,  propped  up  comfortably  but 
insecurely  between  Muirhead  and  a  post,  nearly 
fell  backwards  in  an  endeavour  to  wave  them 
back  with  his  arms. 

"But  you  see  Lighter  hardly  budged  an 
inch,"  he  went  on  admiringly.  "Now  here's 
another  start;  that's  right  this  time;  off! 
Leslie's  pulled  him  back,  you  see,  further  and 
further  back  still.  You'd  think  he  wasn't 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  203 

meant,  but  he  is  if  George  Hickson  says  so. 
What  George  Hickson  doesn't  know  isn't  worth 
knowing.  Now  you  see  he  is  creeping  up  on 
the  rails;  see  him,  don't  you?  Ah!  but  that 
Queen  Mab  she's  coming  up  too,  curse  her. 

That Leslie  is  waiting  too  long.     He  has 

let  the  little  mare  get  such  a start 

already  that     .     .     ." 

As  the  rest  of  Mr.  Fairlegh's  comments  on 
the  race  would  have  to  be  represented  in  these 
polite  pages  by  a  series  of  blanks  with  a  few 
substantives  at  very  long  intervals,  and  as  this 
would  therefore  take  some  time  to  read  with 
understanding,  it  is  sufficient  to  say  that  the 
famous  jockey  who  was  riding  Lighter  proved 
himself  to  be  a  better  judge  of  pace  than  Mr. 
Fairlegh.  Queen  Mab  had  been  rushed  to  the 
front  a  trifle  too  soon,  she  began  to  stop  at  the 
half-distance,  and  with  only  one  or  two  slight 
reminders  from  the  whip,  Lighter  went  past 
her  easily  and  won  by  a  length.  In  the  course 
of  a  subsequent  conversation  in  the  bar,  during 
which  "George  Hickson,"  and  "drinks  all 
round,"  were  at  first  the  only  comprehensible 
words,  Muirhead  grasped  the  fact  that  he  had 
won  ten  pounds,  that  he  had  only  to  go  up  to 
Nick  Lunn  and  demand  this  sum  and  that  he 
would  immediately  receive  it.  From  being 
dull,  bored  and  angry,  he  suddenly  became 


2O4  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

almost  hysterically  excited,  and  when  the 
money  was  actually  in  his  pocket  began  himself 
to  talk  almost  as  incoherently  as  Fairlegh. 

"There's  plenty  more  winners  where  that 
came  from,"  said  Fairlegh.  "You've  just  got 
to  go  and  put  your  money  on  Royal  next. 
You'll  have  to  lay  odds  on  him.  Know  what 
that  means,  old  cock?  No,  of  course  you  don't. 
Then  you  come  along  with  me.  Some  people 
might  tell  you  that  Mirror  was  going  to  win 
this  race,  but  he  ain't.  George  Hickson  says 
he  ain't  worth  a  dollar  a  leg;  that's  what  he 
says.  You  put  your  money  down  on  Royal." 

Muirhead  rather  reluctantly  parted  with  five 
pounds  and  could  not  understand  why  he  was 
only  to  win  four,  knowing  only  enough  about 
racing  to  express  intelligent  doubts  about  Mr. 
Fairlegh's  "stone-blind  certainties."  He 
understood,  however,  the  business  of  the  race 
rather  better  on  this  occasion  and  said  to  him- 
self that  no  two  minutes  of  his  life  had  been 
fuller  of  pleasure  than  these  two,  when  he 
stood  watching  the  horse  Royal,  whose  jockey 
he  was  able  to  distinguish  after  instruction, 
cantering  in  front  of  his  opponents  from  start 
to  finish  of  the  race.  He  declined  to  make  a 
bet  on  the  last  race  of  the  afternoon,  and  went 
home  almost  out  of  his  mind  with  excitement. 
To  have  had  an  afternoon  of  rest  from  work,  of 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  205 

absolute  forgetfulness  of  all  his  troubles,  and 
to  come  home  fourteen  pounds  the  richer  for 
it,  struck  him  as  the  finest  idea  of  a  holiday 
which  could  well  be  imagined. 


CHAPTER   XXII 

Muirhead  never  read  any  racing  news;  and 
horses'  names,  however  familiar  they  might  be 
to  his  ears  from  conversations  in  the  district, 
conveyed  nothing  to  his  mind.  Therefore 
when  Fairlegh  came  round  to  his  rooms  on  Fri- 
day evening  and  began  to  talk  of  a  certain 
King  John  who  was  to  run  next  day  in  the 
Lancashire  Plate,  Muirhead's  chief  thought  was 
that  by  encouraging  Fairlegh's  intimacy  on 
Thursday  he  had  let  himself  in  for  some  rather 
unpleasant  subsequent  explanations  He 
answered  austerely  that  he  had  only  gone  to 
Manchester  on  the  previous  day  for  a  little  bit 
of  amusement  and  had  not  suddenly  become  a 
professional  sportsman. 

"But  what  I  say  is,"  said  Fairlegh,  dog- 
matically, and  in  the  loud  monotone  of  a  man 
who  loves  to  hear  himself  talk  and  knows 
what  he  is  going  to  say  so  well  and  has  said  it 
so  often  without  interruption  that  he  has  no 
intention  of  allowing  it  to  be  disputed:  "when 
a  man  is  in  luck  let  him  work  his  luck  for  all  it 
is  worth.  When  he's  out  of  luck  he  should  lie 
206 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  207 

low.  George  Hickson  says,  'When  luck's  with 
you  play  up  to  it;  when  luck's  against  you  sit 
in  a  chair  and  drink  your  winnings.'  Now 
you're  a  beginner,  so  of  course  you're  in  luck. 
Come  out  and  make  the  best  of  it  while  it  lasts. 
You  can  take  your  Bible  oath  it  won't  last 
long.  Mine  never  does,"  and  Mr.  Fairlegh 
proceeded  to  take  a  good  many  oaths  (not  Bible 
ones)  to  that  effect  on  his  own  account. 

"Is  he  quite  certain  to  win  this  race?"  asked 
Muirhead  meekly. 

"As  sure  as  I  am  here  with  a  thirst  on  me 

like  a  furnace,"  said  Fairlegh,  who  was 

not  one  of  those  weak-minded,  weak-speaking 
men  full  of  constant  intelligent  doubts  about 
the  existence  of  certainties.  When  he  thought 
that  a  horse  was  going  to  win  he  believed  the 
fact  and  asserted  it,  as  now,  in  the  strongest 
words  which  he  was  capable  of  using;  and  to 
show  the  strength  of  his  conviction  that  King 
John  would  win  he  called  for  whiskey,  and 
demonstrated  without  any  possibility  of  cavil 
the  reality  of  his  thirst. 

Attracted  as  much  by  the  oblivion  which  it 
had  brought  him  as  by  the  desire  of  making 
money,  Muirhead  went  down  to  Manchester 
again  on  Saturday.  Throughout  the  journey 
he  heard  the  merits  of  the  famous  King  John 
being  discussed  on  all  sides.  The  horse  had 


2o8  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

won  a  race  at  Ascot,  of  which  he  could  not 
catch  the  name,  and  then  the  St.  Leger.  He 
could  not,  it  appeared,  lose  to-day's  race.  Not 
having  Fairlegh  at  hand  to  pass  on  the  famous 
George  Hickson's  certainties,  Muirhead  made 
no  bets  on  the  minor  races,  but  when  the  time 
arrived  for  the  Lancashire  Plate,  he  sought 
out  Lunn  and  with  the  best  imitation  which  he 
could  muster  of  Fairlegh's  manner,  asked, 
"What  priceKing  John?" 

"He's  heard  me  yelling  '2  to  i  the  field'  for 
half-an-hour  past,"  said  Lunn  with  blighting 
scorn,  "and  comes  and  asks  me  'what  price 
King  John?'  Do  you  think  he  is  an  outsider? 
Would  you  like  100  to  i?  Shall  I  lay  you  1000 
to  8?  Here,  hand  over  that  tenner  that  you're 
holding.  Put  him  down  20  to  10,  Jack,"  went 
on  the  bookmaker,  seeing  that  he  had  a  new 
hand  to  deal  with.  "Here's  a  ticket  for  you, 
young  man,  and  if  King  John  wins,  and  half-a- 
dozen  nice  young  men  come  up  and  say  that 
they  are  Sunday  school  teachers  and  will  help 
you  to  get  the  money  if  you'll  give  them  the 
ticket,  just  hold  on  to  it." 

The  whole  of  this  speech  having  been  totally- 
incomprehensible  to  Muirhead  he  went  back  to 
the  Stands  rather  uncertain  as  to  whether  he 
had  or  not  backed  St.  John  to  win,  and  if  he 
had,  for  how  much.  A  neighbour  in  the 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  209 

Stands  good-naturedly  explained  the  meaning 
of  his  race-card  to  him  sufficiently  to  allow 
of  his  making  out  which  were  King  John's 
colours.  He  watched  the  whole  business  of 
the  parade  and  canter  with  a  fever  of  anxiety 
which  was  new  and  rather  pleasant,  but  after 
the  start  his  spirits  sank  to  a  very  low  point, 
for  King  John  was  running  last  and  making 
apparently  not  the  slightest  effort  to  get  to  the 
front.  Some  anxiety  was  expressed  even 
among  the  more  intelligent  spectators,  and 
murmurs  of  "too  late";  "Why  don't  you  let 
him  go?"  came  from  the  Stands.  Then,  sud- 
denly, a  great  shout  went  up  from  the 
enclosures  and  to  Muirhead's  amazed  eyes 
King  John  seemed  simply  to  race  past  his 
opponents  as  if  they  had  all  suddenly  stopped. 
One  moment  he  was  racing  at  the  tail  of  a 
dozen  scattered  horses ;  the  next  he  was  gallop- 
ing easily  in  front  of  them  all,  while  the  other 
jockeys  were  spurring  and  floundering  in 
desperate  and  futile  endeavours  to  overtake 
him.  A  hoarse  shout  of  delight  escaped  Muir- 
head's lips  as  the  winning  post  was  passed,  and 
a  number  was  put  up  on  the  judge's  box, 
and  spectators  here  and  there  shouted  King 
John's  name.  "Has  he  really  won?"  asked 
Muirhead,  almost  capering  with  excite- 
ment and  putting  his  hand  on  the  shoulder 


2io  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

of  the  man  who  had  explained  his  race-card 
to  him. 

"Won!  Blimey!  ain't  you  got  no  eyes?  Do 
you  think  it's  a  donkey  race,  where  the  last  one 
wins?  Or  do  you  think  he  will  be  disqualified 
for  winning  by  the  length  of  a  street?  Lord!" 
and  with  this  not  very  clear  reply  Muirhead 
had  to  be  content. 

He  was  better  satisfied  with  it  when  Lunn 
handed  him  his  own  ten  pounds  and  another 
twenty  with  it.  He  walked  up  and  down  the 
enclosures  with  his  hands  clasped  behind  him, 
his  lips  moving  slightly,  his  eyes  blazing  with 
excitement.  Gambling  success,  which  affects 
so  many  different  men  in  so  many  different 
ways  (though  there  is  a  dreary  monotony  about 
its  end),  had  completely  intoxicated  this  man. 
Every  other  idea,  hope,  regret  and  desire  was 
burnt  up  by  this  fever.  He  thought  of  nothing 
and  talked  of  nothing  but  the  races  of  Thurs- 
day and  Saturday.  In  spite  of  all  the  popular 
nonsense  which  is  talked  about  the  joy  afforded 
by  money  properly  earned,  I  cannot  imagine 
any  one  who  has  tried  the  two  denying  that 
money  won  by  successful  gambling  affords  ten 
times  more  pleasure  to  the  winner  than  the 
other.  This  fact  is  unfortunately  hidden  by 
the  more  obvious  and  better  known  fact  that 
to  win  ten  pounds  is  a  certain  and  not  very 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  211 

lengthily  spun-out  prelude  to  losing  a  hundred. 
The  loss  of  these  hundred  is  a  black  and 
unpleasant  curtain  obscuring  from  the  memory 
the  rapture  of  winning  the  ten,  and  the  only 
point  in  which  a  hard-earned  ten-pound  note 
can  favourably  compare  with  one  won  on  the 
race-course  is  that  it  stays  longer  in  one's 
pocket.  But  these  reflections  being  very 
immoral  I  bring  them  to  an  apologetic  end. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

Muirhead  went  over  to  Hartshill  on  the  Sun- 
day after  his  debut  on  the  turf  in  order  to  hear 
the  latest  news  of  Gerald.  Hitherto  it  had 
always  been  with  some  reluctance  and  yet  with 
a  sense  of  hopeless  attraction  that  he  paid  such 
visits.  The  majority  of  men,  I  imagine,  are 
not  very  constant  lovers;  rejection  is  to  them 
a  bucket  of  cold  water,  effectively  and  after  an 
extremely  short  time  curing  them  of  their  pas- 
sion. Of  course  to  be  liked  by  a  young  lady 
who  cannot,  nevertheless,  quite  bring  her  love 
up  to  marrying  point,  is  tantalizing,  and  one  is 
sorry  for  a  man  who  finds  himself  in  such  a 
position,  and  can  excuse  him  if  he  goes  on 
hoping.  But  there  must  really  be  something 
wrong  with  a  man's  brain  who  continues  to  be 
violently  in  love  with  a  woman  who  is,  and 
confesses  herself  to  be,  totally  indifferent  to 
him,  or  even  says  that  she  rather  dislikes  him 
than  otherwise.  To  sympathise  with  such  a 
person,  to  listen  to  his  outcries  and  try  to 
soothe  his  woe,  is  impossible.  He  is  not  only 
a  public  nuisance  but  a  fool,  and  the  kindest  of 
212 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  213 

his  friends  is  the  one  who  tells  this  to  him  with 
the  most  emphasis.  The  mere  fact  that  there 
are  a  great  many  more  women  than  men  in 
the  world  is  conclusive  proof  that  such  lamen- 
tations for  the  obduracy  of  one  of  them  are 
preposterous. 

Muirhead,  however,  was  one  of  the  idiots  in 
question,  and  had  no  kind  friend  to  point  out 
his  folly.  He  hung  about  Monica  constantly, 
enduring  her  snubs,  which  grew  more  numerous 
every  week,  abjectly  thankful  for  a  few  kind 
words,  and  filled  day  and  night  with  restless 
craving  to  see  her  and  speak  to  her  again.  He 
left  his  rooms  every  Sunday  afternoon  with  the 
intention  of  going  over  to  Hartshill,  and 
though  he  sometimes  turned  back  he  more 
often  went  on.  These  and  other  visits  ended 
in  his  having  a  few  moments'  conversation 
with  Monica,  and  an  hour's  drearily  dragging 
talk  with  Miss  Bertram,  and  usually  ended  up 
with  a  glimpse  of  Reggie  Nicholson  in  the 
garden.  But  for  the  sake  of  those  few  min- 
utes' talk,  for  a  sight  of  this  girl  and  a  touch 
of  her  hand,  Muirhead  would  risk  Miss  Ber- 
tram's open  boredom  and  Monica's  more  active 
disapproval  day  after  day,  returning  each  time 
to  his  house  with  fresh  heart-ache,  fresh  fury 
against  fate,  fresh  hatred  of  his  successful 
rival.  It  was  of  course  hard  on  him  that  he 


214  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

had  no  means  or  leisure  to  go  to  the  Himalayas, 
the  Rocky  Mountains  or  other  refuges  of  disap- 
pointed love,  and  it  was  unfortunate  that  he 
had  not  Gerald  there  to  assure  him  how  soon 
he  would  get  over  it  if  he  would  make  a  little 
effort. 

Nicholson  senior  was  with  Miss  Bertram,  and 
Monica,  instead  of  as  usual  saying  a  few  words 
to  Muirhead  and  then  departing,  felt  obliged 
to  stop  and  entertain  him.  The  man  had  a 
feeling  that  he  had  better  not  mention  any- 
where, especially  here,  what  he  had  been  doing 
lately,  and  so  spoke  about  other  matters.  To 
his  own  surprise  he  talked  more  fluently  and 
easily  than  usual;  there  was  less  embarrass- 
ment and  even  a  little  gaiety  in  his  words.  He 
cared  much  less  than  usual  when  the  girl,  who 
was  not  a  great  adept  at  hiding  her  feelings, 
and  to  say  truth  was  more  than  moderately 
rude  to  this  visitor  on  most  occasions  without 
altogether  adequate  cause,  let  slip  some  of  her 
usual  discouraging  comments.  Even  when 
Reggie  came  into  the  room  and  Muirhead  saw 
her  face  light  up  with  relief  and  joy,  the  sight 
hardly  caused  his  pulses  to  beat  an  atom  faster. 
He  did  not  exactly  realize  all  this  at  the  time; 
the  habit  of  being  miserable,  the  attitude  of 
disappointment  had  become  so  fixed  in  him 
during  the  last  three  months  that  his  mind,  so 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  215 

to  speak,  took  for  granted  that  on  each  of  these 
occasions  it  was  to  experience  an  increase  of 
grief;  but  as  he  walked  away  from  the  house 
and  as  he  sat  at  dinner  that  evening  it  suddenly 
struck  him  that,  instead  of  brooding  over 
Monica's  unkindness,  instead  of  going  over  all 
the  words  which  she  had  spoken  to  him  and  he 
to  her,  trying  to  find  hope  in  them  and  succeed- 
ing in  finding  failure ; — instead  of  doing  this  he 
was  looking  at  a  mental  picture  of  a  race  horse 
with  splendid  limbs  stretched  out  as  it  moved 
across  the  turf,  that  he  was  hearing  the  cries 
of  an  excited  and  happy  crowd:  "King  John 
wins!"  "The  favourite  walks  in!"  He 
laughed  to  himself  and  then  shook  himself  a 
little  impatiently:  "I  can't  go  to  any  more 
races  this  month,"  he  said,  "but  I  think  I'll  try 
and  manage  to  get  down  to  Newmarket  for  a 
day  next  month.  Fairlegh  says  that's  the  real 
place  to  see  it.  Yes!  I  think  I'll  put  in  a  day, 
perhaps  two,  there  next  month.  What  did  he 
say  that  big  race  was?  The  .  .  .  the 
Cesare  witch." 

When  Nicholson  came  over  next  morning, 
the  last  day  of  his  work  at  the  Freehold  Society, 
Muirhead  was  quite  polite  to  him.  Indeed,  to 
his  own  astonishment  he  found  that  he  was 
really  rather  sorry  that  the  lad  was  going  He 
had  not  actually  reached  the  point  of  liking 


2l6  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

him,  but  some  slight  regret  was  certainly 
caused  by  the  reflection  that  he  would  have  to 
teach  some  one  else  Nicholson's  work.  He 
himself  understood  so  little  of  this  business, 
which  was  daily  growing  more  complicated, 
that  he  very  cordially  disliked  having  to 
initiate  any  one  else  into  it. 

Among  the  letters  which  he  received  that 
morning  was  one  telling  him  to  address  some 
fresh  remonstrance  to  Miss  Bertram  about  the 
sale  of  her  shares,  and  he  thought  it  worth 
while  to  say  a  word  to  Reggie  about  it. 

"It's  really  nothing  to  us,"  he  said,  with  an 
elaborate  unconcern  which  could  not  have 
deceived  a  child,  "but  it  seems  a  pity  for  her 
own  sake  that  she  should  give  up  what  is  pay- 
ing her  so  well.  If  Benson  has  been  instructed 
to  sell  the  shares,  of  course  he  will,  and  I  do 
not  suppose  that  he  will  find  any  difficulty  in 
doing  it,  but  I  think  I  shall  ask  her  again  to 
change  her  mind." 

"It  would  not  be  the  slightest  use,"  said 
Nicholson  curtly. 

"Have  you  asked  her  yourself?" 

"No,"  said  the  other,  without  further 
excuses  or  enlargement. 

"Well,  she  is  going  to  do  a  very  silly  thing, 
and  I  think  you  would  do  very  well  to  try  and 
prevent  her." 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  217 

"She  has  her  reasons,  and  I  quite  agree  with 
them,"  said  the  boy,  flushing.  Muirhead 
looked  at  his  face,  and  in  a  sudden  flash  all  his 
former  suspicions  and  anxieties  revived. 
Gerald,  he  felt  certain,  had  warned  Miss  Ber- 
tram, and  this  was  the  result.  Nothing  else 
could  possibly  account  for  such  an  unusual 
action  on  her  part  as  the  making  and  acting 
upon  her  own  decision  about  money  matters. 

After  a  minute's  silence,  Reggie  asked, 
"When  will  a  purchaser  be  found  for  the 
shares?" 

"How  should  I  know?"  said  Muirhead. 
"People  are  constantly  investing  money,  but  I 
can't  control  it.  Holiday  time  is  hardly  over 
yet.  She  must  wait  a  few  weeks  before  any 
dealings  in  the  shares  begin." 

"Hadn't  Mr.  Robinson  better  preach  another 
sermon?"  asked  Nicholson;  "or  is  it  only  when 
he  wants  to  sell  his  own  shares  that  he  does 
that?" 

"You  had  better  ask  him,"  said  Muirhead 
with  a  sudden  grim  laugh,  "for  here  he  is." 

Luke  Robinson  in  effect  walked  into  the 
Office  at  that  moment.  Since  Gerald's 
departure  his  visits  there  had  become  more 
frequent,  for  he  felt  himself  safe  in  patronising 
its  present  occupants.  This  morning  his  face 
looked  grave  and  severe.  He  bowed  severely 


2i8  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

to  Nicholson  and  Muirhead,  took  a  seat,  and 
crossed  his  arms  with  reproof  in  every  gesture. 
After  a  few  words  about  some  business  matters 
he  asked  to  see  Muirhead  by  himself,  and 
Reggie  left  the  room. 

4 'I  extremely  regret  to  hear,  Mr.  Muirhead," 
he  began,  "that  you  have  been  to  the  Man- 
chester Races  twice." 

Muirhead  looked  annoyed.  He  was  not  anx- 
ious that  his  recent  actions  should  come  to  the 
ears  of  any  of  the  Freehold  people,  and  cer- 
tainly Robinson  was  the  last  of  them  whom  he 
desired  or  expected  to  hear  of  it.  Well  as  he 
knew  Robinson's  position  as  a  paid  agent  of 
the  Society,  ready  to  put  his  religious  work  at 
their  disposal,  he  had  none  of  Gerald's  scorn 
for  the  man's  hypocrisy,  and  he  had,  on  the 
other  hand,  all  Gerald's  admiration  of  his 
talents  and  influence.  Therefore  he  answered 
humbly  enough  that  he  had  certainly  been  to 
Manchester,  but  saw  no  harm  in  it. 

"No  harm!  I  am  astonished,  Mr.  Muirhead! 
I  could  not  have  imagined  that  any  one  could 
deny  the  wickedness  and  folly  of  turf  gambling, 
or  that  a  person  in  your  responsible  position 
could  encourage  it. " 

"I  think  you  overrate  the  wickedness  of  it," 
said  Muirhead  weakly. 

"The    matter    is    beyond    all    argument," 


Resolved  to  be  Rich 


said  Robinson.  "Every  man  connected  with 
racing  is  a  scoundrel.  The  jockeys  and  train- 
ers and  owners,  as  every  one  knows,  rarely 
mean  to  win  races;  they  only  want  to  win  bets, 
to  swindle  the  people  who  go  to  races  out  of 
their  money.  I  cannot  imagine  how  any  man 
could  be  such  a  fool  as  to  let  himself  be 
swindled  like  that,  and  I  have  no  sympathy  at 
all  with  the  victims  of  these  scoundrels.  You 
will  have  no  sympathy  for  your  losses  from 
any  right-minded  man." 

"But  I  happen  to  have  won,"  said  the  other 
quietly. 

"You  won!  You  made  bets  and  won 
money!"  exclaimed  Robinson  in  horrified 
astonishment;  and  then  paused  for  a  moment, 
his  natural  respect  and  admiration  for  any  man 
who  made  money  by  any  means  almost  causing 
him  to  lose  his  presence  of  mind,  and  ask  Muir- 
head  to  take  him  too  to  Manchester. 

'  'This  is  really  a  very  serious  matter  indeed,  '  ' 
he  went  on  at  last.  "I  half  hoped  that  you 
would  tell  me  at  any  rate  that  you  hadn't  made 
any  bets  there.  I  cannot  express  to  you  the 
horror  with  which  I  regard  all  such  gambling. 
I  see  on  every  side  among  my  flock  the 
tragedies  of  ruin  caused  by  it.  I  see  men  rob- 
bing their  masters  to  pay  their  debts;  starving 
their  wives  and  children  to  find  this  gambling 


22O  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

money;  neglecting  all  their  business,  religious 
duties,  all  their  affairs  earthly  and  heavenly,  in 
order  to  give  themselves  up  to  this  disgraceful 
gambling.  It  is  a  horror  to  me;  and  now  I 
find  that  one  of  the  leaders  of  the  Freehold 
Society,  a  Society  with  which  I  concern  myself 
so  actively  because  I  believe  that  it  is  doing 
moral  as  well  as  material  good  to  all,  has  taken 
to  gambling  on  the  turf!  It  is  most  painful  to 
me." 

Muirhead  satin  silence  under  this  onslaught. 
His  main  idea  was  fear  lest  Robinson  should  do 
him  mischief  with  Marshall  or  Lord  Eastney, 
but  he  really  could  not  lower  himself  by  asking 
Robinson  to  keep  silence. 

"How  much  did  you  win?"  asked  the 
Wesleyan  minister  abruptly. 

"Thirty  or  forty  pounds,  though  really  I 
don't  quite  see  .  .  ." 

"Oh!"  There  was  a  distinct  tone  of  disap- 
pointment in  Robinson's  voice.  It  would  have 
suggested  to  Gerald  Franklin  that  the  minister 
had  been  considering  the  possibility  of  levying 
a  little  black-mail,  of  demanding  half  the  win- 
nings as  the  price  of  silence.  Neither,  prob- 
ably, would  Gerald  have  had  much  hesitation 
in  chaffing  Robinson  about  such  an  intention. 
"Are  you  going  to  any  more  of  these  disgrace- 
ful places?" 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  221 

"I  really  haven't  thought  about  the  matter 
at  all,"  said  Muirhead;  but  guilty  recollections 
of  his  plans  to  see  the  Cesarewitch  made  him 
flush  a  little  and  look  uneasily  at  his  companion. 

"It  will  be  a  most  painful  matter  for  me," 
said  Robinson,  noting  the  answer  of  the  man's 
face  rather  than  of  his  words,  "to  take  any 
decisive  steps  about  it;  but  you  will  readily 
understand,  Mr.  Muirhead,  that  the  Freehold 
cannot  afford  to  allow  such  wrong-doing. 
That  is  to  say,"  he  added,  feeling  that  he  had 
put  the  case  with  more  truth  than  discretion, 
"no  society,  however  great  and  well  estab- 
lished, could  tolerate  such  wrong.  I  must 
give  you  distinctly  to  understand  that  if  I  hear 
of  its  repetition  I  shall  write  at  once  to  Mr. 
Marshall." 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

"What  would  you  do  if  some  one  called  you 
a  liar?"  asked  a  youthful,  pugnacious  acquaint- 
ance of  mine,  talking  to  a  contemporary. 

"To  my  face?"  asked  the  other. 

"Yes." 

"Well,"  was  the  reply,  "about  how  big  a 
person?" 

This  unfortunately  is  a  consideration  which 
has  to  enter  into  the  calculations  of  all  of  us. 
When  a  man  calls  us  names  and  we  want  to 
make  an  effective  reply,  we  positively  must 
know  how  big  the  man  is  in  mind  and  influ- 
ence, in  person  and  body,  so  as  to  be  quite  sure 
that  his  answer  when  he  resumes  the  discussion 
will  not  be  too  crushing.  Now,  unfortunately, 
outside  a  certain  groove,  Muirhead  knew  very 
little  of  human  nature.  He  could  judge  his 
own  friends  and  equals  fairly  well,  but  he 
could  not  sum  up  a  great  man.  Robinson  was 
a  great  man — a  great  scoundrel,  of  course,  but 
certainly  great — and  required  a  man  of  equal 
intellectual  size  to  deal  with  him.  Gerald 
Franklin,  who  knew  what  was  in  the  man's 

222 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  223 

mind  as  well  (to  use  a  vulgar  phrase)  as  if  he 
had  been  down  there  with  a  candle,  would  have 
met  this  lecture  on  gambling  by  a  few  home 
truths  of  an  extremely  unpleasant  character 
about  Mr.  Robinson's  public  and  private  life, 
and  would  have  told  him  more  forcibly  than 
politely  to  mind  his  own  business ;  but  fortu- 
nately for  the  minister  Franklin  was  not  there. 
Robinson  had  an  absolute  incapacity  for  mind- 
ing his  own  business  (and  might  indeed  have 
pleaded  that  it  was  his  business  to  mind  other 
peoples) ' ;  and  a  restless  resolute  way  of  plung- 
ing his  hand  into  the  affairs  of  everybody  in 
the  town.  On  the  plea  of  forcing  the  English 
Church  authorities  of  the  neighbourhood  to 
recognise  the  importance  of  his  own  sect,  he 
thrust  himself  into  Town  Councils  and  chari- 
ties, committees  and  bazaars,  strikes,  political 
meetings  and  newspaper  controversies  on  every 
conceivable  subject.  His  powers  of  work  were 
immense.  Like  the  border-lord  who  killed 
fifty  Scots  at  a  breakfast,  and  washed  his 
hands,  and  said  to  his  wife:  "Fie  on  this  quiet 
life,  I  want  work,"  Robinson  simply  could  not 
find  enough  to  do.  Not  only  did  he  want  to 
take  the  souls  and  bodies,  the  work  and  pleas- 
ures of  everybody  in  the  Potteries  into  his  own 
charge,  but  he  would  have  liked  another 
obedient  congregation  in  London  as  well,  and 


224  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

desired  nothing  more  than  an  opportunity  for 
showing  the  London  authorities  of  the  Free- 
hold Society  a  few  specimens  of  his  religious 
zeal  and  financial  skill.  He  would  have  liked 
at  this  moment  to  write  a  long  letter  to  Lord 
Eastney  on  the  subject  of  the  iniquities  of  the 
turf  and  the  scandal  of  Muirhead's  association 
with  it.  Muirhead  had  an  instinctive  suspicion 
of  this  fact,  though  he  knew  little  about  the 
would-be  writer's  motives;  therefore  he  cow- 
ered under  Robinson's  threats  and  said  to  him- 
self that  if  he  was  going  to  indulge  in  this  new 
amusement,  it  would  have  to  be  done  quietly 
and  at  a  greater  distance  from  Staffordshire. 
Newmarket  answered  his  purpose  very  well, 
and  in  October  he  accordingly  decided  to  get 
himself  four  days'  holiday  and  go  to  the  Second 
October  Meeting. 

But  here  fortune  played  him  more  than  one 
scurvy  trick.  The  first  persons  that  he  met  in 
the  High  Street  on  his  arrival  were  Lady  Eastney 
and  Bertie  Alford,  the  former  of  whom,  after  a 
slightly  puzzled  stare,  remembered  him  and 
bowed  with  a  look  of  very  decided  astonish- 
ment. At  St.  Pancras  he  had  bought  various 
sporting  papers  and  studied  them  in  the  train 
on  the  way  down  to  Newmarket,  finding  that 
there  were  many  people  to  supply  the  place  of 
Mr.  Fairlegh  as  a  prophet;  that  in  fact  there 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  225 

was  almost  an  embarrassment  of  tips,  He 
found  further  that  each  paper  gave  two,  three, 
or  sometimes  four  selections  for  the  same  race 
in  different  columns,  and  he  conceived  the 
brilliant  idea  of  adding  them  all  up  and  select- 
ing the  horse  chosen  by  the  majority.  This 
scheme  was  again,  however,  upset  by  a  most 
obliging  and  affable  gentleman  whom  he  met 
on  the  racecourse  and  who,  although  con- 
nected with  half  the  stables  in  Newmarket 
and  the  possessor  of  all  their  information  and 
all  their  secrets,  and  therefore,  one  would 
imagine,  in  a  position  to  make  a  fortune  once  a 
day,  was  willing  to  take  charge  of  Muirhead, 
and  for  a  consideration  which  was  certainly 
trifling,  considering  what  he  had  to  offer  in 
return  for  it,  to  tell  him  what  was  going  to  win 
every  race.  But  the  owners  and  trainers  of  the 
horses  were  lamentably  inaccurate  in  the  infor- 
mation which  they  had  confided  so  positively 
to  Muirhead 's  new  friend,  for  not  a  single  horse 
which  he  backed  won  on  the  first  day  of  the 
Meeting,  and  he  lost  under  the  pressure  of  his 
friend's  persuasion  the  whole  of  the  fifty 
pounds  which  he  had  brought  with  him. 
Angrily  resolved  to  get  it  back  again,  he  tele- 
graphed to  Newcastle  for  money  to  be  sent  to 
him,  and  went  up  to  the  course  the  next  day 
resolved  to  follow  his  own  original  newspaper 


226  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

scheme.  But  this  worked  no  better  than  the 
other,  and  the  professional  tipster  turning  up 
again  later  in  the  day  and  persuading  him  to 
plunge  rather  heavily  on  a  horse  in  the  last 
race,  he  again  lost  all  the  money  which  he  had 
in  his  possession.  Excitedly  angry,  as  much 
at  his  own  ill-luck  as  at  the  loss  of  the  money, 
and  with  the  real  gambler's  resolve  to  get  it 
all  back  again  by  any  means,  he  telegraphed  to 
Newcastle  for  a  hundred  pounds  to  be  sent  to 
him,  and  began  the  third  day  of  the  Meeting 
in  that  state  of  mind  in  which  men  cheerfully 
commit  the  first  crime  or  folly  which  comes  to 
their  hands. 

He  lost  ^45  of  this  money  over  the  first 
three  races,  then  wandering  about  in  the 
Birdcage  he  heard  two  men  talking  of  a  horse 
called  Tealeaf,  which  was  running  in  the 
Middle  Park  Plate.  One  man  was  apparently 
the  owner,  the  other  had  come  up  to  him  say- 
ing that  he  had  put  ^200  each  way  on  Tealeaf. 
The  owner,  whom  Muirhead  recognised  from 
his  photographs  as  a  famous  peer  and  politician 
with  an  income  which  ran  into  six  figures, 
answered  very  politely:  "Yes,  I  think  he  will 
win.  I  have  got  ^10  on  him  myself;"  and  the 
lad  who  had  spoken  blushed  a  little.  One  of 
the  idiotic  resolves  which  come  to  gamblers  of 
Muirhead's  type,  immediately  took  possession 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  227 

of  the  man,  and  collecting  all  the  rest  of  his 
money,  without  leaving  himself  enough  for  his 
hotel- bill,  he  went  up  to  Lunn,  and  the  num- 
bers for  the  Middle  Park  Plate  now  being  up, 
asked:  "What  price  Tealeaf?"  His  knowl- 
edge of  turf-language  was  now  improved,  and 
he  could  even  bargain  a  little  about  the  odds. 
' '  Sixes, ' '  was  the  reply. 

"But  I  want  sevens  to  win,"  said  Muirhead, 
"and  7  to  4  for  a  place.  It  is  only  for  ^30  each 
way. ' ' 

"Go  and  eat  your  ^30, "  was  the  brief  and 
somewhat  inconsequent  reply. 

"But  they  are  offering  sevens  over  there." 

"Here,  Jack!"     Lunn  turned  to  his  clerk, 

"Give  this  gentleman  your  book  and  pencil. 

He's  come  to  do  our  business  for  us,  and  he 

knows  such  a about  it  that  he  must  do  it 

all  his  own  way  too. " 

"I  only  asked  for  7  to  i  instead  of  6,"  said 
Muirhead.  "It's  only  one  point  more." 

"You  see,  Jack,  the  gentleman  knows  that  7 
is  i  more  than  6.  I  told  you  he  knew  all 
about  this  trade.  I  saw  in  his  eye  from  the 

first  that  he  wasn't  such  a fool  as  he  looks. 

I  take  some  credit  for  seeing  that  too.  Now, 
young  man !  if  you  want  6  to  i  about  Tealeaf 
and  5  to  4  for  a  place,  hand  your  money  over.  If 
you  don't,  make  room  for  somebody  who  does. " 


228  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

Muirhead  handed  over  his  money  and  walked 
rapidly  up  and  down  the  ring  in  a  state  of  wild 
excitement  until  the  horses  came  out  and  can- 
tered down  to  the  starting  post.  Then  he  went 
and  stood  on  one  of  the  Stands,  staring  with 
white  face  at  the  horses  as  they  moved  about 
under  the  starter's  orders.  There  was  a  long 
delay  at  the  post  with  several  breaks-away, 
during  which  Muirhead  had  ample  time  to 
realise  what  a  very  idiotic  act  he  had  recently 
committed.  He  was  as  certain  as  if  it  had 
already  happened  that  the  horse  would  get 
beaten,  and  that  the  next  which  he  proposed  to 
back,  and  now  would  be  unable  to  back  for  lack 
of  the  money,  would  win.  For  a  moment  a 
wild  idea  came  into  his  mind  of  going  up  to 
Lunn  and  imploring  him  to  cancel  the  bet,  but 
there  was  a  crowd  of  persons  round  the  famous 
bookmaker  doing  business  with  him,  and  he 
had  not  the  courage  to  go  among  them  on  such 
an  errand.  The  flag  fell  at  last.  It  was  half  a 
minute  before  Muirhead  could  distingtiish  the 
colours,  so  much  did  his  hand  which  held  his 
glasses  shake.  He  saw  Tealeaf  at  last  in  the 
middle  of  a  whole  cluster  of  horses  who  were 
apparently  shutting  him  in,  and  he  dropped  his 
glasses  and  turned  away  for  a  moment  mutter- 
ing prayers,  entreaties,  threats  to  the  horse's 
jockey,  so  that  his  companions  turned  round 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  229 

and  laughed  at  him.  Then  he  looked  again. 
The  little  group  of  horses  had  parted  asunder, 
and  Tealeaf  was  in  front  of  it  with  only  two 
horses  in  front  of  him.  For  a  moment  Muir- 
head's  heart  gave  a  great  jump  which  sent 
the  blood  in  a  scarlet  flush  to  his  face.  Then 
the  next  moment  there  began  a  motion  of 
Watts'  arms  which  Muirhead  already  knew  to 
mean  that  the  horse  was  tiring  and  stopping; 
but  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  Tealeaf  he  did  not 
notice  that  the  riders  of  the  two  horses  which 
were  in  front  of  him  had  picked  up  their  whips 
and  were  already  desperately  trying  to  keep 
their  places.  Slowly  but  steadily  Tealeaf  drew 
up  to  them.  Watts  picked  up  his  whip,  flour- 
ished it  once,  brought  it  down  once,  and  then 
Tealeaf  with  a  final  effort  drew  clear  away 
from  his  two  opponents.  Muirhead  watched 
him  go  past  a  length  in  front  of  the  others,  he 
gazed  at  the  picture  almost  with  fear  in  his 
face.  Surely  he  could  only  have  won  such  a 
sum  in  order  that  it  might  be  taken  away  after- 
wards— in  order  that  he  might  rise  to  the  high- 
est point  of  exultation  and  have  the  greatest 
possible  fall.  When  the  winning  number  went 
up,  he  asked  one  of  his  neighbours  whether 
that  was  really  Tealeaf 's  number;  then  he 
asked  another  whether  he  too  thought  that 
Tealeaf  had  really  won ;  another  whether  there 


230  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

was  likely  to  be  any  objection;  another 
whether  Lunn  was  likely  to  refuse  to  pay.  He 
had  thirty  or  forty  men  in  Tatter  sal's  Ring 
laughing  at  him  before  the  "All  right"  was 
called.  Two  of  the  most  skilful  ticket-snatch- 
ers  on  the  course  stuck  to  him  and  made  reso- 
lute attempts  to  get  hold  of  his  ticket;  but  the 
money,  a  sum  of  ^217  IDS.  found  its  way  to  his 
pocket  safely  at  last,  and  the  man's  elation  was 
pitiful  to  watch.  He  was  the  worst  of  winners 
and  losers,  a  gambler  as  to  whose  ultimate  fate 
there  could  be  no  possible  doubt. 

He  left  Newmarket  that  night  and  arrived 
home  in  time  for  business  on  Friday  morning. 
Feeling  the  absolute  necessity  of  having  some 
one  to  talk  to  about  his  luck,  he  invited  Fair- 
legh  to  lunch  at  his  rooms,  and  told  him  this 
history  over  a  bottle  and  a  half  of  dry  Mono- 
pole;  champagne  at  unseasonable  hours  and 
meals  being  with  such  people  an  inevitable  part 
of  successful  betting. 


CHAPTER    XXV 

A  suspicion  that  he  had  much  better  have 
held  his  tongue  which  occurred  to  him  that 
evening  was  confirmed  next  morning  by  the 
arrival  of  Luke  Robinson. 

"I  feel  it  now  my  absolute  duty  to  write  to 
Lord  Eastney  about  this,"  said  Robinson.  "It 
is  most  painful  to  me,  but  not  only  should  I 
feel  in  any  case  bound  to  do  all  in  my  power  to 
stop  the  reckless  proceedings  which  you  have 
begun,  but  for  the  sake  of  the  Freehold  I  am 
bound  to  stop  them.  You  will  ruin  yourself 
and  the  Society.  I  hear  wherever  I  go  now 
stories  about  your  bets  and  your  winnings. 
Your  winnings  most  have  been  something 
enormous" — there  was  a  queer  tone  in  the 
speaker's  voice  as  he  hinted  the  last  question 
which  would  have  made  Gerald  Franklin  laugh 
and  ask  him  whether  a  ten-pound  note  would 
be  of  any  good — "I  cannot  allow  such  a  scan- 
dal to  go  on  for  a  single  day  longer. ' ' 

"My  winnings  only  just  paid  my  expenses," 
said  Muirhead  uneasily  and  untruthfully.  "I 
can't  stop  your  writing  to  Lord  Eastney,  but  I 
%  231 


232  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

cannot  imagine  what  there  is  to  make  such  a 
fuss  about." 

"The  amount  of  your  winnings  or  what  you 
did  with  them  matters  nothing,"  said  Robin- 
son. One  might  have  imagined  there  was  a 
tone  of  disappointment  in  his  voice.  "It's  the 
gambling  which  horrifies  me,  and  which  I  must 
have  stopped." 

"You  had  better,"  said  Muirhead  rather 
coldly,  for  his  elation  at  his  own  success  had 
taken  away  some  of  his  fear  of  the  Wesleyan 
minister,  "speak  to  young  Franklin  about  it. 
He  is  coming  down  here  to-morrow  for  a  few 
days. ' ' 

"Is  he?"  Robinson's  face  fell  like  that  of  a 
child  who  is  told  that  its  holidays  are  over  and 
that  the  governess  is  coming  back  next  day. 
"Is  he?  What  is  that  for?" 

"On  private  family  business,"  said  Muir- 
head, who  didn't  know  the  reason  but  thought 
it  would  be  wholesome  for  Robinson  to  believe 
that  he,  Muirhead,  knew  more  about  Gerald's 
intentions  than  the  minister  himself. 

In  fact,  Muirhead  had  made  a  good  shot,  and 
Gerald  had  come  home  in  consequence  of  a 
consultation  with  Marshall  in  which  Marshall 
had  begged  the  boy  to  go  down  and  see 
whether  he  could  first  persuade  his  aunt  not  to 
sell  her  shares,  and  then  persuade  Monica  to 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  233 

invest  her  recently  acquired  fortune  in  the 
Society.  For  the  Carlton  Gold  Mine  shares 
had  been  sold  for  a  sum  of  ^£1 4,000,  and 
Monica  as  an  heiress  was  one  of  the  latest 
sensations  of  the  neighbourhood. 

Gerald  arrived  at  home  with  a  pretty  clear 
idea  that  he  would  have  some  difficulty  in 
carrying  out  Marshall's  orders.  His  aunt  had 
clearly  been  warned  by  some  one.  He  knew 
her  previous  opinion  of  the  Freehold,  saw  from 
her  letter  to  Marshall  that  she  had  received 
some  additional  information  to  confirm  it,  and 
thought  it  highly  improbable  that  he  would  be 
able  to  say  anything  to  change  her  mind. 
Besides  this,  he  had  no  intention  of  allowing 
either  his  aunt  or  his  sister  to  be  involved  in 
the  final  crash.  Even  if  he  had  persuaded 
them  to  invest  the  money  he  would  have  made 
them  sell  the  shares  before  anything  went 
hopelessly  wrong,  and  in  that  case  it  struck  him 
now  that  they  would  hold  their  shares,  if 
bought,  for  a  very  short  time.  So  it  was 
without  desire  or  expectation  of  success  in  his 
mission  that  he  arrived  at  Hartshill. 

The  current  of  excitement  over  the  Freehold 
Society  was  still  running  strong  in  North 
Staffordshire,  and  Gerald  was  besieged  with 
questions  on  all  sides.  He  went  over  to  see 
Muirhead  at  once,  and  was  amused  to  notice 


234  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

the  confusion  into  which  the  Newcastle  Office 
had  dropped  since  his  departure.  Stories 
about  Muirhead's  racing  outbreak  were  told  to 
him  by  various  people,  at  which  he  laughed 
and  said  that  Muirhead  was  a  rich  man  who 
could  easily  afford  to  amuse  himself.  The 
others  should  invest  all  their  money  in  the 
Freehold,  and  then  they  too  would  have  some 
to  bet  with.  He  found  Lowe  in  a  state  of 
great  exultation,  having  just  bought  a  carriage 
and  pair  of  horses,  built  a  small  stable,  refur- 
nished his  vicarage  and  begun  a  course  of 
dinners,  garden  parties  and  other  country 
entertainments  which  were  certainly  an 
extremely  good  advertisement  for  the  Free- 
hold. The  Vicar  of  Hartshill  talked  to  Gerald 
with  a  gratitude  and  affection  which  rather 
touched  the  boy  and  made  him  view  this 
development  with  some  concern. 
Lowe,  he  resolved,  should  be  one  to  receive  a 
word  of  warning  in  time,  if  it  were  possible. 
He  asked  the  Vicar  whether  he  would  give  his 
consent  to  Monica's  money  being  invested  in 
the  Society,  and  of  course  received  Lowe's 
prompt  assent,  "What  better  investment 
could  anybody  possibly  want?"  said  the  man, 
looking  round  on  his  new  chairs  and  rosewood 
cabinets  and  the  new  Erard  piano. 

' '  But  you  understand  of  course, ' '  said  Gerald 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  235 

a  little  impatiently  and  speaking  for  once  on 
impulse,  "that  the  Society  is  not  a  legal  invest- 
ment for  trust  money,  and  that  you  would  be 
liable  for  the  money  if  anything  went  wrong." 

"If  anything  went  wrong!"  repeated  the 
parson  with  a  smile.  "I  suppose  that  you 
know  best  whether  that  is  likely  to  happen  and 
would  not  be  here  asking  me  these  questions 
about  your  own  sister's  money  if  it  were." 

Gerald  got  up  to  go,  feeling  thoroughly 
annoyed.  Lowe's  smiling  certainty  that 
everything  must  be  right  angered  him. 
Remarkable  as  it  may  seem,  it  had  really  never 
occurred  to  him  before  that  he  was  doing  a 
most  infamous  thing  in  even  risking  the  loss  of 
Miss  Bertram's  and  Monica's  money.  Was  he 
in  point  of  fact  perfectly  certain  to  be  able  to 
save  it  at  the  last  moment?  Of  course  not! 
the  odds  were  rather  against  his  being  able  to 
do  so  than  otherwise.  The  errand  on  which  he 
had  come  down  here  was,  he  confessed  to  him- 
self, an  outrageous  one.  He  would  do  his  best 
to  persuade  the  two  women  to  agree  to  invest 
their  money  as  proposed,  but  if  they  did  agree 
to  it,  it  by  no  means  followed  that  he  would 
allow  it  to  be  done. 

Monica  was  delighted  to  see  her  brother 
again.  Since  Lady  Eastney's  conversation 
with  her  she  had  been  extremely  anxious 


236  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

about  him,  and  had  urged  Miss  Bertram  to 
insist  upon  withdrawing  him  from  his  present 
business,  even  if  considerable  penalties 
attached  to  breaking  the  agreement  with  Mar- 
shall. But  the  woman  did  not  quite  see  her 
way  to  do  this,  the  fact  being  that  she  only  half 
believed  what  Lady  Eastney  had  told  her. 
The  Marchioness'  words,  however  honestly 
meant  at  the  time,  were  as  likely  as  not  only 
the  outcome  of  some  quarrel  with  her  husband, 
or  with  some  other  principals  in  the  Society. 
Her  quick  eyes  had  seen  the  relations  in 
which  Lady  Eastney  and  Bertie  Alford  stood 
to  one  another,  and  oddly  enough  she  had 
more  than  half  made  up  her  mind  that  this 
warning  was  the  result  of  some  complication 
between  herself,  her  husband  and  her  lover. 
Gerald  had  therefore  been  allowed  to  continue 
his  London  work  in  peace.  The  boy  was 
pleased  to  be  at  home  again  and  once  more 
among  the  circle  of  people  who  regarded  him 
with  admiring  awe.  The  flattery  of  Muirhead 
and  Lowe  had  pleased  him  immensely,  and  he 
was  in  a  very  good  humour  when  he  arrived  at 
Hartshill. 

"Is  Nicholson  flourishing?"  he  asked  Monica 
gaily;  "and  aren't  you  very  glad  to  have  me 
out  of  the  way  when  he  is  over  here?  I  sup- 
pose you  have  to  go  into  another  room,  Aunt 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  237 

Christina,  when  he  is  here,  and  leave  them  all 
to  themselves?  Are  you  allowed  to  come  in  to 
tea  with  them?" 

"I  believe  Reggie  likes  Aunt  Christina 
better  than  he  does  me,"  said  Monica.  "But 
now  you've  got  to  tell  us  about  Susan  Ethridge. 
You  are  beginning  to  blush,  I  see.  Is  she  very 
nice,  Gerald?" 

"Yes,  very,"  said  the  boy  decisively. 

"And  pretty?" 

"I  really  don't  know,  I  never  looked.  I  do 
not  know,  on  my  word,"  he  went  on,  answer- 
ing Monica's  laughter.  "She's  the  sort  of  girl 
whose  looks  you  don't  think  about  when  she's 
talking  to  you.  I  like  her  very  much." 

Monica,  who  had  received  more  than  one 
long  and  enthusiastic  letter  about  Gerald  from 
her  friend  Susan,  was  amused  and  interested 
at  her  brother's  admiration.  She  had  never 
heard  him  speak  of  a  girl  before,  so  far  as  she 
could  recollect;  his  conversation  having  been 
confined  entirely  to  men  and  money.  She 
went  on  thinking  of  this  new  development  even 
when  the  talk  had  drifted  back  to  Gerald's 
more  usual  themes,  and  when  he  began  to 
speak  to  her  about  the  investment  she  was 
thinking  all  the  time  of  the  other  matter.  She 
shook  her  head  laughingly  at  his  proposal,  and 
refused  at  first  even  to  discuss  it  seriously. 


238  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

"Reggie  wouldn't  hear  of  it,"  she  said. 
"Of  course  you  don't  understand  just  yet  what 
it  means  to  have  a  masterful  person  saying-  to 
you  that  you  are  to  do  this  and  are  not  to  do 
that,  though  perhaps  some  day  you  may  find 
out  what  it  is  like.  Is  Susan  very  strong- 
minded,  Gerald?" 

"I  wish  you  would  talk  seriously  about  the 
thing,  my  good  girl.  It's  the  worst  of  trying 
to  talk  business  with  any  girl  that  there  is  sure 
to  be  a  young  man  hanging  about  and  getting 
himself  mixed  up  with  the  affair  somewhere. 
You  know  perfectly  well  that  Nicholson  has  got 
nothing  to  do  with  it.  It's  for  you  and  Aunt 
Christina  and  Mr.  Lowe  to  decide,  and  you  can 
take  my  word  for  it  that  Nicholson  isn't  such  a 
young  fool  as  to  refuse  .£1500  a  year  interest 
on  your  money  instead  of  ^500.  What  earthly 
objection  have  you  to  the  investment?  Money 
can't  lie  in  a  bank,  you  know,  and  must  be  put 
somewhere." 

"Reggie  is  going  to  consult  his  father's 
lawyers  about  it." 

"But  the  money  isn't  his  to  do  what  he  likes 
with,"  says  Gerald, who  was  getting  quite  angry 
at  his  sister's  resistance, and  was  now  determined 
to  persuade  her  into  doing  what  he  suggested. 

"Aunt  Christina  asked  him  to  see  about  it  for 
us." 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  239 

"Well,  she'd  no  business  to  do  anything  of 
the  sort, "  said  the  boy.  "Lowe  is  the  proper 
person  to  ask,  and  if  she  wanted  some  other 
advice,  she  should  have  called  Marshall.  I 
can't  understand  why  she  should  suddenly  turn 
round  and  insult  the  whole  lot  of  us  like  this. 
It  is  simply  absurd.  Now  are  you  going  to  be 
reasonable,  and  think  of  buying  some  shares?" 

"No,  I  am  not,"  said  Monica  briefly. 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  when  you  have 
got  the  best  investment  in  England  offered  to 
you,  with  every  guarantee  that  anybody  could 
possibly  want,  with  all  your  friends  recom- 
mending the  thing,  you  are  going  to  chuck  all 
advice  to  the  winds,  because  a  chap  with  whom 
you  happen  to  be  in  love,  and  who  knows  noth- 
ing on  earth  about  the  subject,  happens  to 
think  differently?" 

"If  you  like  to  put  it  like  that,  you  can," 
said  Monica;  "but  the  fact  remains  that  I  am 
not  going  to  let  Mr.  Marshall  or  Mr.  Lowe 
have  anything  to  do  with  investing  my 
^14,000." 

"Or  me  either?" 

"No,  nor  you  either.  We  all  know  how 
clever  you  are,  and  I  am  sure  you  would  get 
me  very  good  interest,  but  I  simply  don't  want 
to  speculate." 

"Speculate,  my  good  girl!     You  don't  know 


240  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

what  the  word  means.  You  are  simply  talking 
preposterous  nonsense. " 

"That  is  not  a  thing  which  Monica  often 
does,"  said  Miss  Bertram,  who  had  come  into 
the  room  just  in  time  to  hear  this  last  sentence. 

"I  was  speaking  to  her  about  money 
matters, ' '  said  Gerald,  who  had  meant  to  per- 
suade Monica  first,  and  Miss  Bertram  after- 
wards, and  was  rather  annoyed  by  the 
interruption. 

"Gerald  wants  me  to  buy  shares  in  the  Free- 
hold with  my  gold  mine  money,"  said  Monica. 

Miss  Bertram  had  more  than  suspected  from 
the  first  that  this  was  the  object  of  Gerald's 
visit,  and  her  voice  was  more  decided  than 
pleasant  when  she  said :  "I  think  I  may  answer 
Gerald  on  your  behalf,  my  dear,  better  than 
you  can  yourself,  as  I  happen  to  have  the 
power  of  disposing  of  your  money;  and  I  can 
say  without  any  hesitation,  that  I  have  not  the 
slightest  intention  of  letting  you  do  what  he 
suggests." 

"Mr.  Lowe,  who  is  one  of  the  trustees,  and  a 
man  of  business,  is  perfectly  willing,"  said 
Gerald  rather  sulkily.  "I  don't  know  why  you 
should  object." 

"I  can't  tell  you  my  reasons.  It  is  really  not 
worth  while  arguing  the  matter.  My  mind  is 
quite  made  up. ' ' 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  241 

"You  can't  tell  me  your  reasons?"  repeated 
Gerald,  interrogatively. 

"Well,  I  don't  mean  to,  if  you  prefer  that 
answer." 

"We  shall  all  think  it  a  little     ..." 

"Gerald,  I  do  not  wish  to  have  any  more 
words  about  the  matter  at  all.  If  you  have 
been  asked  to  make  enquiries  about  our  inten- 
tions, you  have  made  your  enquiries  and  have 
had  your  answer.  The  answer  is  perfectly 
irrevocable.  I  daresay  Monica  has  already  told 
you  herself  that  she  did  not  care  for  the  invest- 
ment. Now  I  add  that  if  she  did  like  it,  if  Mr. 
Lowe  advocated  it  as  strongly  as  he  could, 
nothing  whatever  would  make  me  change  my 
mind.  Monica  is  not  going  to  buy  any  shares 
in  the  Freehold,  and  I  am  going  to  sell  my  own 
shares  directly  I  can  find  any  one  to  buy  them. 
That,  by  the  way,  does  not  seem  to  be  very 
easy  to  do  just  now." 

"Holiday  time  is  only  just  over,"  said  the 
boy  in  a  low  frightened  voice.  "It  will  be  all 
right  when  every  one  comes  back  to  London ; 
but  they  say  that  the  fine  weather  has  kept 
people  away  very  late  this  year."  He  mut- 
tered the  excuse  mechanically,  as  though 
repeating  some  lesson  which  he  had  learnt  by 
heart,  and  then  left  the  room. 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

The  report  which  Gerald  sent  to  Marshall  at 
the  end  of  forty-eight  hours'  stay  in  North 
Staffordshire  brought  that  gentleman  down  in 
person  by  the  next  train,  and  some  anxious 
consultations  between  himself,  Robinson,  and 
Gerald  took  place  in  the  Newcastle  office.  The 
affairs  both  of  the  Freehold  and  the  Merton 
Insurance  Company  were  in  wild  disorder. 
There  had  been  a  great  falling  off  in  insurance 
policies  and  share-buying,  and  it  was  impos- 
sible to  gather  from  the  hopelessly  entangled 
figures  what  was  going  wrong  or  why.  The 
purchase  of  the  Arkhill  property  had  been  com- 
pleted, and  the  boring  for  coal  had  been  begun 
in  several  directions;  but  so  far  it  had  not  been 
found  in  paying  quantities,  and  the  unsuccess- 
ful shafts  were  there  for  all  men  to  see.  The 
talk  of  failure  went  on  and  grew.  A  builder 
who  was  concerned  with  the  Freehold  in  cer- 
tain new  villas  and  streets  which  were  being 
built  near  Dentley  became  bankrupt  suddenly, 
and  denounced  Marshall  for  his  failure.  Very 
irrationally;  for  these  were  only  small  acci- 
243 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  243 

dents  which  had  happened  in  twenty  different 
parts  of  the  Society's  properties,  and  could  not 
have  affected  any  sound  company;  people 
began  to  shake  their  heads,  and  to  talk  of 
selling  shares.  One  or  two  indeed  tried 
to  do  so,  and  found  that  it  was  difficult,  and 
told  their  neighbours  about  the  difficulty. 
Paragraphs  were  put  in  the  local  papers  under 
"London  Gpssip,"  asserting  that  a  dividend  of 
a  perfectly  phenomenal  character  would  be 
declared  at  the  next  half-yearly  meeting,  but 
the  business  folks  of  the  Potteries  laughed  at  it. 

"We  must  have  another  sermon,  Mr.  Robin- 
son," said  Marshall,  hardly  able  to  hide  his 
uneasiness.  "We  must  have  several  more. 
You  must  tell  these  people  that  when  they  try 
to  sell  shares  in  this  ridiculous  way  they 
are  in  fact  speculating,  and  that  speculating  is 
the  worst  of  sins.  Couldn't  you  preach  a 
course  of  sermons  about  it?" 

'I  could,"  said  Robinson,  "and  their  effect 
would  be  immediate  and  very  beneficial." 

'Very  good.     When  will  you  begin?     The 
sooner  the  better." 

"I  said  that  I  could  do  it,"  said  the  Wesleyan 
minister  drily.  "The  thanks  I  got  for  doing  it 
last  time  were  not,  however,  so  warm  that  I 
should  care  to  do  it  again." 

The  two  speakers  looked  at  one  another,  with 


244  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

a  grim  smile  on  one  side  and  impatient  annoy- 
ance on  the  other. 

"Mr.  Robinson  is,  I  feel  sure,  going  to 
demand  something  perfectly  preposterous," 
said  Gerald  in  his  smooth,  ironical  voice,  "but 
if  I  were  you,  Mr.  Marshall,  I  should  explain  to 
htm,  first,  that  he  very  much  overrates  the 
effect  of  his  sermons,  and,  secondly,  that  if  they 
had  any  high  money  value  to  us  (which  they 
have  not),  we  simply  have  not  got  the  money 
to  pay  for  them.  Why  not  ask  Mr.  Lowe  to 
preach  for  us?" 

"You  might  go  and  ask  him  certainly,"  said 
Marshall.  "We  should  like  Mr.  Robinson's 
sermons,  too,  if  the  price  is  not  too  high." 

''I  object,  gentlemen,"  said  the  minister,  red 
with  passion.  "I  object  most  strongly  to  these 
remarks  about  my  sermons  being  paid  for.  It 
is  insolence  to  suggest  that  my  spiritual 
instruction  to  my  flock  is  being  bought  at  a 
price.  What  has  it  to  do  with  my  sermons  if 
I  have  land  which  I  wish  to  sell ;  if  I  wish  to 
dispose  of  the  rest  of  that  little  Dentley  estate, 
a  part  of  which  you  have  already  bought  of  me 
at  a  most  ludicrously  small  price;  if  I  have 
now  ten  more  acres  of  land,  with  three  houses 
on  it,  and  want  to  sell  this?" 

Gerald  laughed  rudely.  "We  want  to  under- 
stand clearly  that  a  sermon  is  to  go  with  each 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  245 

house.  Then  I  daresay  Mr.  Marshall  will  buy. 
Now  for  the  price.  Oh!  wait  a  bit;  here  comes 
Mr.  Lowe  down  the  street,  and  there  is  my 
aunt  and  Canon  Hobart.  They've  all  met,  and 
look  as  if  they  were  talking  about  coming 
across  here?  Yes!  That's  just  what  they  are 
going  to  do.  Now,  we  might  arrange  a  regular 
course  of  sermons  all  over  the  Potteries,  though 
I  am  afraid  that  Canon  Hobart  would  not  do  us 
very  much  good." 

The  three  visitors  came  in  as  Gerald  had 
said,  and  began  various  explanations  of  their 
arrival.  Miss  Bertram,  who  was  in  front,  said 
she  had  come  in  to  speak  to  Marshall  about  the 
sale  of  her  shares.  Lowe  said  that  he  had 
come  to  help  persuade  her,  even  at  the  last 
minute,  to  abstain  from  an  act  which  he 
genuinely  thought  to  be  extremely  silly. 
Hobart  was  there,  though  he  did  not  say  so,  to 
put  that  inconvenient  question  to  Marshall 
about  the  Hospital. 

Standing  in  the  background,  awaiting  his 
turn  to  speak,  the  canon  took  one  more  good 
look  at  Mr .  Joshua  Marshall,  and  then  sud- 
denly, as  some  long-sought  recollection  will 
flash  across  us  at  last  at  the  moment  when  we 
least  expect  it  and  are  least  searching  for  it,  the 
recollection  of  this  man  flashed  into  Hobart 's 
brain.  He  knew  him  now.  The  last  time  he 


246  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

had  seen  him  he  was  standing  before  the  Board 
of  Directors  of  the  North  Stafford  Infirmary 
evading  questions  about  some  accounts,  pro- 
fessing his  inability  to  understand  certain 
points,  and  promising  to  have  a  complete  state- 
ment ready  for  the  next  meeting.  Hobart 
remembered  how  at  the  time  a  sudden  touch  of 
suspicion  had  come  to  him.  He  was  the  least 
astonished  of  all  the  committee  at  Marshall's 
flight.  With  this  memory  at  last  firmly  in  his 
mind,  he  stared  at  the  man,  and  only  wondered 
now  why  he  had  not  recalled  his  face,  and  espe- 
cially his  voice,  before.  The  man  was  speak- 
ing to  his  sister — Hobart  supposed  that  she  did 
not  know  him  and  was  surprised — assuring  her 
that  the  Company  was  never  in  a  better  condi- 
tion, cajoling  her  by  all  means  in  his  power 
into  keeping  her  shares.  The  canon  listened 
with  quiet  amusement,  and  then  detecting,  or 
thinking  that  he  detected,  signs  of  wavering  in 
Miss  Bertram,  he  stepped  forward  and  stood  in 
front  of  Marshall  with  his  arms  folded  and  a 
slight  smile  on  his  face. 

"You  have  a  great  facility  in  explaining 
figures,  Mr.  Marshall,"  he  said.  "If  I  remem- 
ber right,  some  years  ago  you  promised  to  give 
a  certain  explanation  of  the  accounts  of  the 
North  Stafford  Infirmary.  Is  the  explanation 
ready  yet?" 


CHAPTER    XXVII 

Marshall  sat  down  in  a  chair  and  looked  from 
Hobart  to  his  sister,  and  back  again  to  Hobart. 
He  attempted  no  bluff,  no  denial  or  explana- 
tion. If  he  had  been  recognised,  he  had  been 
recognised,  and  the  mischief  was  done.  If  you 
meet  a  man  in  the  street,  and  he  says,  "Hallo, 
Jones!  how  are  you?"  it  is  extremely  improb- 
able that  it  will  be  of  the  slightest  use  for  you 
to  turn  round  and  say,  "I  am  not  Jones;  you 
are  really  quite  mistaken."  The  odds  are  that 
your  friend  will  argue  less  about  your  identity 
than  your  sanity.  Epictetus  sagely  remarked, 
"I  am  evidently  conscious  of  my  own  identity, 
because  when  I  intend  to  swallow  anything  I 
never  carry  it  to  your  mouth  but  to  my  own;" 
and  so  when  a  man  has  taken  his  greetings  and 
hand-shakes  to  a  certain  person,  that  person  is 
not  going  to  convince  him  by  the  strongest 
arguments  or  the  subtlest  philosophy  that  he  is 
talking  to  some  one  else.  I  believe  myself  that 
even  when  a  man  addresses  some  one  like  this, 
and  is  greeted  perfectly  truthfully  with  a  polite 
explanation  that  he  is  quite  mistaken,  he  goes 
247 


248  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

away  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  with  the  impres- 
sion that  his  supposed  friend  is  either  wanted 
by  the  police,  or  that  for  some  nefarious  pur- 
pose he  is  making  clumsy  efforts  at  disguise. 

Marshall  at  any  rate  had  the  wit  to  see  that 
denial  of  himself  would  have  no  other  result 
than  to  irritate  Hobart;  and  that  was  not  a 
thing  which  he  wished  to  do.  Therefore  he 
looked  at  him  in  mild  deprecation,  then  looked 
at  Lowe  to  see  if  he  understood  what  this  accu- 
sation meant,  and  then  glanced  through  an 
open  door  into  a  room  where  Gerald  and  Muir- 
head  and  Robinson  had  temporarily  retired  as 
if  appealing  to  Hobart  not  to  speak  before  them 
just  yet.  The  rector  softened  a  little  at  Mar- 
shall's immediate  surrender,  as  Marshall  had 
judged  that  he  would,  and  began  to  think  that 
he  wanted  some  time  for  reflection  before  fol- 
lowing up  his  advantage.  Therefore  when 
Miss  Bertram  turned  to  him  in  frightened 
appeal,  saying:  "Spare  him,  Canon  Hobart,  for 
my  sake  and  Monica's;  spare  him!  You  will 
not  do  anything  just  yet,  will  you?"  he 
answered  her  reassuringly. 

"I  don't  understand  what  is  the  matter," 
said  Lowe.  "Had  I  better  not  know?  If  so, 
of  course,  I  will  go  away." 

"It  is  simply,"  said  Hobart  quietly,  "that 
Mr.  Marshall  is  in  point  of  fact  Mr.  Joshua 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  249 

Bertram,  Miss  Bertram's  brother,  who  was 
Secretary  of  the  Infirmary  some  years  ago  and 
left  suddenly  under  circumstances  of  which  you 
have,  I  believe,  heard.  He  went  to  Spain,  as 
I  understood  at  the  time,  and  for  Miss  Ber- 
tram's sake  we  took  no  further  steps  in  the 
matter.  What  we  ought  to  do  now  is  an  affair 
which  requires  consideration." 

"I  have  been  working  honestly  ever  since.  I 
have  done  my  best  to  remedy  the  wrong,"  said 
Marshall  very  humbly.  "Everybody  knows  all 
about  the  work  which  I  am  doing  now ;  it  is 
perfectly  straightforward,  useful,  honest.  My 
sister  knows  all  about  my  life  now  and 
approves  of  it.  Don't  you,  Christina?" 

The  woman  leant  against  the  table  sick  with 
terror  and  misery.  After  what  Lady  Eastney 
had  told  her  she  could  not  and  would  not  say 
"yes"  in  answer  to  her  brother's  last  question, 
but  to  say  "no"  was  like  giving  Hobart  leave 
to  do  his  worst.  Fortunately  the  rector  was 
puzzling  out  something  else  in  his  own  mind. 

"I  don't  quite  understand,"  he  said,  turning 
to  Miss  Bertram.  "Did  you  know  who  Mr. 
Marshall  was  all  the  time?" 

"I  knew  him  the  first  time  he  came  down 
here.  Before  that  I  did  not  even  know  that  he 
was  in  England." 

"You  should  have  told  some  one  who  he  was. 


250  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

You  should  have  forbidden  him  to  bring  this 
business  down  here,"  said  the  rector  irritably. 

"Before  Lady  Eastney  told  me  .  .  ." 
began  Miss  Bertram  and  then  stopped  in  con- 
fusion. 

"She  knew  all  the  time,  of  course,  that  my 
business  was  a  perfectly  honest  one,"  said  Mar- 
shall, perceiving  that  his  sister  would  not  make 
this  reply  herself.  Even  in  the  middle  of  this 
nervous  business  he  had  time  to  note  and 
register  the  fact  which  he  had  half  suspected 
already,  that  it  was  Lady  Eastney  who  had 
warned  Miss  Bertram  against  the  Freehold 
Society,  and  advised  her  to  sell  her  shares. 
There  was  silence  for  half  a  minute  and  then 
Hobart  moved  towards  the  door. 

"Are  you  going  to  have  my  brother 
arrested?"  muttered  Miss  Bertram,  beginning 
to  cry. 

"No,"  said  Hobart,  "I  don't  suppose  there 
is  any  good  in  that.  Of  course  I  must  talk 
the  matter  over  with  one  or  two  others  first, 
and  we  shall  probably  make  certain  conditions 
with  regard  to  this  Society.  I  cannot  tell  you 
what  they  will  be  yet.  I  know  too  little  of 
the  work  myself.  I  should  like  you  to  come 
with  me,  Mr.  Lowe,  if  you  are  disengaged." 

Left  alone  with  his  sister,  Marshall  got  up 
and  shut  the  door  of  communication  with  the 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  251 

inner  room ;  then  came  back  and  sat  down  by 
Miss  Bertram. 

"I  have  no  luck,"  he  muttered  in  sullen 
anger.  "Luck  is  always  against  me.  Every- 
where I  go,  and  whatever  I  am  doing,  if  a  little 
bit  of  luck  has  got  to  come  into  my  business,  it 
is  always  bad.  Whether  I  am  acting  honestly 
or  dishonestly  it  is  always  the  same.  Posts  go 
wrong  on  just  the  one  particular  day  in  the 
year  when  it  matters  to  me  more  than  on  any 
other  that  I  should  get  some  letter.  Trains 
and  ships  are  always  over  their  time  if  I  am  in 
a  hurry,  and  under  it  if  I  want  delay.  If  a 
thousand  of  my  papers  which  do  not  matter 
pass  through  some  man's  hands  who  rarely 
looks  at  them,  and  there  happens  to  be  one  of 
the  papers  which  I  do  not  wish  him  to  see,  he 
is  sure  to  see  it.  I  have  backed  a  horse  in  a 
steeplechase  in  Buenos  Ayres  which  had  run 
for  five  seasons  and  never  fallen,  and  he  fell 
the  time  I  backed  him.  The  only  time  I  ever 
played  trente-et-quarante  at  Monte  Carlo  the 
un-aprh  turned  up  four  times  running,  a 
thing  which,  they  told  me,  happened  perhaps 
once  a-year.  There  is  no  fighting  against  luck 
like  that.  I  think  that  a  man  who  watches  his 
life  for  ten  years  and  sees  that  he  is  dogged  by 
evil  fortune  like  that  has  only  one  sensible 
thing  to  do,  and  that  is  to  shoot  himself. 


252  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

When  everything  was  made,  there  was  nothing 
made  viler  or  more  unbearable  than  bad  luck. 
I  would  suffer  torture,  loss,  poverty,  and  death 
itself,  and  would  mind  nothing  if  I  had  brought 
them  on  myself  by  mismanagement  and 
stupidity.  It  is  that  feeling  of  being  followed 
by  bad  luck,  that  certainty  that  wherever 
chance  enters  into  anything  it  will  be  against 
me,  which  I  loathe.  I  can  remedy  the  stupidity 
and  mismanagement;  against  the  other  I  can 
do  nothing.  It  infuriates  me;  it  drives  me 
mad — mad!" 

This  sort  of  tirade  was  more  new  to  Miss 
Bertram  than  to  the  majority  of  ladies  who 
have  the  honour  to  be  related  to  ne'er-do-weels, 
and  she  was  impressed  by  it  to  an  extent  which 
gratified  its  author.  Some  vague  idea  of  hav- 
ing heard  or  read  the  thing  before  was  cer- 
tainly in  her  mind,  and  it  did  strike  her  also 
that  if  she  had  set  her  brain  to  work  she  could 
have  found  an  answer  to  most  of  it ;  but  she 
was  not  concerned  to  do  so  at  this  moment, 
and  sat  in  troubled  silence. 

'I  am  at  Hobart's  mercy,"  said  Marshall  at 
last.  "What  am  I  to  do?" 

"I  will  go  and  see  him.  He  seems  to  pay 
some  attention  to  my  appeals, "  said  the  woman. 
' '  I  will  beg  him  to  keep  silence. ' ' 

"  If  he  or  Lowe  talk  to  any  one  they  might  as 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  253 

well  preach  about  me  in  the  Town  Hall  at 
once.  Half  a  dozen  words  to  anybody  and  the 
story  will  be  all  over  the  place. ' ' 

"I  will  say  so  to  him.  I  will  implore  him  to 
keep  absolute  silence." 

The  man  looked  slightly  relieved  and  his 
sister  went  on.  "You  will  not  leave  England 
again,  will  you?  It  would  be  unwise,  I  think, 
to  come  down  into  this  neighbourhood  any 
more,  as  your  presence  irritates  Canon  Hobart, 
but  you  could  find  work  in  London.  And, 
Joshua,  could  you  not  find  something  else  than 
your  present  work?" 

"Why  should  I?" 

"You  know  well  enough." 

"I  certainly  see  well  enough  that  some  one 
has  been  talking  great  nonsense  to  you,  and  I 
can  pretty  well  guess  who  it  is.  What  on 
earth  do  you  suppose  that  Lady  Eastney  knows 
about  a  business  like  ours?  She  is  fighting  us 
merely  because  that  little  fool  Alford  who 
hangs  on  to  her  petticoats  dislikes  her  hus- 
band, and  she  is  on  the  youngster's  side.  He 
is  her  lover.  I  should  have  thought  any 
woman  could  have  seen  through  an  affair  of 
that  sort." 

"I  cannot  argue  about  the  matter,  but  I  know 
everything,  and  you  know  that  I  know." 

"A  truly  feminine  remark,"  said  Marshall, 


254  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

and  then  suddenly  remembering  that  he  was 
not  exactly  in  a  position  to  make  sarcastic 
remarks  to  his  sister,  he  went  on:  "Of  course, 
my  dear  Chris,  every  one  may  think  what  they 
like  about  the  Society,  but  you  might  have 
trusted  me  not  to  let  you  and  Monica  come  to 
any  harm  in  it.  You  have  given  a  very  severe 
blow  to  its  credit  down  here  by  trying  to  sell 
those  shares,  but  of  course  you  must  do  it  if 
you  think  right.  Now  we  had  better  leave  the 
office.  I  must  go  back  to  London  to-night,  and 
you  will  see  Hobart  as  soon  as  you  can,  won't 
you?  It  is  good  of  you  to  stand  by  me,  dear 
Chris.  You  always  did,  didn't  you." 

"I  haven't  done  you  much  good  by  it,  appar- 
ently, ' '  said  the  woman  with  unusual  bitterness. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

Canon  Hobart  having  promised  to  keep 
silence  about  Marshall's  identity  on  condition 
that  no  more  religious  pressure  was  brought  to 
bear  to  induce  the  neighbourhood  to  invest  its 
money  in  the  Freehold,  a  little  more  breathing 
time  was  given  to  the  officials  of  that  remark- 
able institution.  It  was  true  that  business  was 
at  an  absolute  standstill ;  that  shares  could  not 
be  sold  at  any  price  at  all,  and  that  a  large  and 
increasing  number  of  persons  were  increasingly 
anxious  to  sell  them  at  any  price,  but  such  a 
fact  is  a  long  time  in  becoming  known,  and 
has  little  significance  for  the  class  of  investors 
with  whom  Lord  Eastney  and  his  fellow 
directors  were  concerned.  Local  lawyers  or 
bankers  might  advise  the  sale  of  houses  or 
shares  belonging  to  the  Freehold  at  any  sacri- 
fice, but  so  long  as  the  local  postmaster  and 
clergyman  or  itinerant  preachers  would 
strongly  discountenance  such  a  proceeding, 
and  express  unbounded  faith  in  the  Society's 
prospects,  such  advice  was  not  of  any  serious 
consequence.  A  few  persons  like  Miss  Ber- 
255 


256  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

tram,  who  had  their  entire  fortune  in  this 
Company,  and  knew  more  or  less  the  truth 
about  it,  grew  desperately  anxious  as  time 
went  on  and  they  were  told  on  all  sides  to  wait  ; 
but  this  minority  was  unimportant.  Muirhead 
was  another  who  was  getting  anxious  about  his 
prospects,  but  he  had  discovered,  as  he  sup- 
posed, a  new  and  much  more  interesting  and 
rapid  way  of  making  money,  and  was  less  con- 
cerned to  sell  his  Freehold  shares  than  to  find 
probable  winners  for  the  November  races  at 
Derby,  Warwick,  Manchester,  and  other  places 
within  reasonable  distance  of  Newcastle.  The 
first  week  in  November  came  at  last,  many  of 
the  actors  in  this  little  drama  having  lived  half 
a  dozen  lives  during  the  anxious  previous 
weeks,  and  Muirhead  began  to  absent  himself 
regularly  three  days  a  week  from  the  office. 
Money  flowed  into  his  pockets  steadily  at  these 
"back-end"  meetings.  He  appeared  able  to 
commit  the  most  outrageous  acts  of  folly  and 
yet  win  continually.  One  day  he  would  back  a 
horse  because  he  had  dreamt  its  number, 
another  because  he  had  seen  its  colours  on  a 
scarecrow  from  the  passing  train,  another 
because  it  was  the  only  one  not  mentioned  by 
any  of  the  sporting  papers  in  their  tips,  another 
for  a  reason  more  idiotic  than  all  the  preceding 
ones  put  together,  namely,  that  he  liked  its 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  257 

looks.  He  heard  of  people  coming  to  the  office 
in  Newcastle  day  after  day,  local  persons  anx- 
ious about  their  land  or  houses,  officials  from 
London  who  had  come  down  to  see  himself  and 
urge  caution  or  activity,  but  he  paid  no  atten- 
tion to  any  of  them.  He  saw  Monica  half-a- 
dozen  times,  heard  that  the  date  of  her 
wedding  had  been  fixed,  and  was  as  absolutely 
indifferent  to  sight  or  news  as  if  it  had  con- 
cerned Miss  Bertram.  Even  when  he  came 
back  from  a  certain  day  at  Derby  some  thirty 
or  forty  pounds  to  the  bad  on  the  day,  it  did 
not  very  greatly  affect  him.  He  said  to  him- 
self that  it  was  an  accident  liable  to  happen  to 
any  sportsman,  that  it  came  of  following  other 
people's  advice  instead  of  his  own  judgment, 
that  he  would  make  up  for  it  by  an  extra  heavy 
bet  or  two  next  day.  The  extra  heavy  bet  was 
made  and  lost;  another  was  made  with  the 
same  result;  and  Muirhead  looked  down  the 
list  of  runners  in  the  Derby  Cup  with  a  slight 
touch  of  anxiety.  These  losses  had  occurred 
before,  they  would  come  all  right  by  the  end  of 
the  day,  never  had  he  gone  home  a  loser  two 
days  running.  He  shook  his  shoulders  impa- 
tiently and  walked  quickly  up  and  down  the 
enclosure  searching  for  distraction.  The  great 
bare  Stands  were  full  of  a  rather  sober-looking 
crowd,  many  like  himself  were  severe  losers 


258  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

over  this  succession  of  crowded  five -furlong 
scrambles,  where  any  clever  light-weight  who 
got  well  away  might  be  victorious,  and  win- 
ners were  best  guessed  by  tossing  up  pennies. 
There  was  hardly  a  touch  of  colour  among  the 
Stands  excepting  in  the  County  enclosure 
where  a  few  gay  dresses,  survivals  from  the 
Cowes  week  or  Scotch  castles,  were  to  be  seen. 
Bets,  though  small  in  amount,  were  unusually 
numerous,  and  the  shouting  of  the  bookmakers 
had  hardly  finished  when  the  horses  passed  the 
winning  post,  and  began  again  directly  the  first 
number  was  hoisted.  The  numbers  of  the 
horses  in  the  Derby  Cup  had  not  appeared  on 
the  board  when  betting  on  the  race,  which  had 
been  going  on  continuously  all  the  afternoon, 
rose  to  an  indescribable  uproar.  Men  of  all 
classes,  with  five-shilling  pieces,  half-sovereigns 
and  bank-notes  in  their  hands,  surrounded  each 
bookmaker  in  a  fiercely  fighting  crowd,  scream- 
ing, gesticulating,  and  furiously  pushing  past 
their  neighbours  to  demand  the  price  of  this  or 
that  favourite  or  outsider.  From  half-a-dozen 
of  the  smaller  bookmakers  came  cries  of  "10  to 
i  on  the  field" ;  even  the  bigger  men  were 
offering  8  to  i,  and  making  bets  faster  than 
their  clerks  could  write. 

Muirhead  had  a  confident  feeling  that  this 
was  the  race  on  which  he  was  going  to  retrieve 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  259 

fortune.  It  was  on  races  of  this  sort,  with  a 
score  of  runners  and  fifteen  possible  winners, 
that  he  had  won  his  great  coups  hitherto,  and 
he  camp  up  to  Goodleigh  with  ^120  in  his 
hand.  He  asked  the  prices  of  various  horses. 
He  never  made  up  his  mind  till  the  last 
moment,  changing  his  intention  sometimes  in 
speaking.  In  point  of  fact,  on  this  occasion, 
finding  that  one  of  his  selected  horses  was  a 
favourite,  he  chose  another,  a  certain  Par- 
mesan, against  whom  Goodleigh  offered  him 
100  to  6  to  win  and  4  to  i  for  a  place.  He 
backed  this  and  The  Elf  to  win  and  for  places, 
and  Table-turner  and  Chloe  for  places.  He 
continued  putting  on  money  as  each  new  fancy 
came  into  his  head,  and  had  to  take  out  of  his 
pocket  another  ^15  to  add  to  the  £120.  It  was 
the  biggest  sum  of  money  that  he  had  had  on  a 
race  yet,  and  his  face  was  white  and  his  lips 
and  hands  trembled  as  he  took  his  place  on  the 
steps  of  the  far  stand  and  watched  the  horses 
canter  down  to  the  starting-post.  The  field 
was  large  and  a  little  unmanageable.  There 
was  half-an-hour's  delay  at  the  post,  and  even 
then  the  flag  fell  to  a  very  straggling  start. 
Muirhead,  watching  them  through  his  glasses, 
exclaimed  at  each  breakaway,  muttered  terror, 
anxiety,  relief,  and  boredom,  as  the  horses  one 
after  another  ran  half  the  course,  were  stopped, 


260  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

brought  back,  turned  into  line  again  r.nd  then 
again,  broke  away.  As  the  flag  fell  at  last  he 
almost  ceased  to  breathe,  and  as  he  saw  nearly 
all  his  own  selections  hopeless  lengths  in  the 
rear,  he  felt  from  the  start  that  his  money  was 
gone.  The  race  was  a  mere  pell-mell  scramble 
where  half  the  riders  were  engaged  in  getting 
out  of  the  way  of  the  blundering,  swaying 
6st.-5  brigade,  with  young,  and  small,  and 
excited  stable-boys  on  their  backs.  Elf  and 
Chloe  were  already  entirely  out  of  the  race, 
being  even  now  hard  ridden  to  make  them  join 
the  leaders.  Parmesan  was  sufficiently  badly 
placed  at  the  start,  and  suddenly,  to  his  horror 
and  rage,  Muirhead  saw  him  pulled  right  back 
behind  the  whole  of  the  front  division,  and 
dragged  across  the  course  from  right  to  left. 
Tableturner,  he  thought,  might  get  a  place. 
It  was  the  horse,  of  course,  on  which  he  had 
least  money  of  all,  and  the  first  touch  of  the 
gambler's  feeling  that  fortune  is  fighting 
against  him,  the  same  idea  which  had  been  the 
text  of  Marshall's  late  diatribe,  came  to  this 
man  too  as  he  looked  at  the  little  group  of 
horses  flying  up  the  centre  of  the  difficult 
Derby  mile.  He  kept  his  glasses  fixed  on 
them,  especially  on  Tableturner,  till  the  horses 
were  almost  opposite  to  him.  Then  as  he 
put  them  down  his  heart  gave  a  leap  which 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  261 

nearly  choked  him,  and  his  face  flushed  scarlet. 
It  would  have  occurred  to  a  more  intelligent 
spectator  of  the  race  to  wonder  why  the  riders 
of  the  little  group  which  he  had  been  watching 
had  taken  up  their  whips  one  by  one,  and  had 
sat  down  to  ride  for  all  they  were  worth.  The 
reason  was  simply  that  close  under  the  rails, 
on  the  Stand's  side  of  the  course,  Parmesan  had 
come  up  with  a  rush  and  was  leading  by  two 
lengths.  The  result  of  a  race  when  the  winner 
is  in  this  position  is  mostly  unperceived  by  the 
majority  of  the  onlookers,  and  half-a-dozen 
names  were  being  shouted.  The  shouts  con- 
fused Muirhead,  who  kept  muttering  to  him- 
self, "Impossible!  impossible!"  and  could 
scarcely  believe  the  result,  even  when  Parme- 
san's number  was  hoisted  as  the  winner. 
Oakleaf  was  given  second  place,  and  then 
another  exclamation  broke  from  Muirhead's 
lips,  for  in  the  third  place  Tableturner's  num- 
ber appeared.  The  man  leant  against  the  rail- 
ings of  the  stand  shaking  and  almost  crying 
with  excitement.  He  did  not  know  how  much 
he  had  won ;  could  not  remember  the  calcula- 
tions which  he  had  made  beforehand;  knew 
nothing,  except  that  he  was  delirious  with 
excitement  and  gratitude.  Presently  he  found 
himself  standing  opposite  Goodleigh  with 
bank-notes  being  thrust  into  his  hand.  The 


262  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

sum  which  he  put  away  into  his  pocket-book 
amounted  to  nearly  ^800  (of  which  ^650  were 
his  winnings  on  the  race),  and  as  he  stood 
drinking  champagne  at  the  bar  he  calculated 
that,  in  spite  of  some  previous  losses,  he  only 
wanted  another  hundred  pounds  to  have  won  a 
thousand  during  his  short  turf  career.  He 
would  win  it,  he  said  to  himself,  on  the  next 
race,  and  then  go  home  and  bet  no  more  that 
year.  Elated  by  this  resolution  and  the  cham- 
pagne, he  came  out  to  find  that  there  were  only 
three  runners  in  the  race.  "Gulliver  has 
scared  them  all  away,  of  course,"  said  a  man 
with  whom  he  had  some  acquaintance.  "You 
see  the  race  is  a  walk  over  for  him,  and  at  this 
time  of  the  year  there  is  no  object  in  bringing 
a  horse  to  the  race-course,  and  giving  him  a 
training  gallop  behind  something  that  he  can't 
possibly  beat." 

"Well,  anyhow,  I  am  going  to  back  Gulliver 
to  win  a  hundred  pounds,"  said  Muirhead. 

"You  are,  are  you?"  said  the  other,  laugh- 
ing. "You  must  have  a  good  sum  of  money 
on  you  to-day  to  do  that.  Listen  there ! ' '  and 
Muirhead,  listening,  heard  cries  of  "I'll  take 
10  to  i"  coming  from  various  quarters  of  the 
ring. 

"You  see,  old  man,  you'll  want  a  pretty  stiff 
sum  on  to  win  ^100. " 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  263 

"I  don't  mind  having  a  pretty  stiff  sum  on  a 
certainty,"  said  Muirhead. 

"Well,  you're  right  there,"  was  the  reply. 
"I  don't  much  mind  buying  money  myself 
when  I've  got  anything  to  buy  it  with.  Look 
here;  lend  me  a  tenner,  can't  you?  I  will 
give  it  you  back  after  the  race.  The  thing  is 
an  absolute  certainty,  as  any  one  can  see,  and  I 
want  a  quid  awfully  badly.  You  might  make 
it  twenty  as  you're  so  flush." 

Muirhead  pulled  out  a  twenty-pound  note 
and  handed  it  to  the  man  with  a  good-natured 
smile,  merely  saying:  "You  must  bring  it  me 
back  after  the  race.  I  wouldn't  mind  giving 
you  a  couple  of  quid  myself,  but  there  is  no 
reason  why  you  shouldn't  get  them  out  of  a 
bookmaker  instead.  I  am  going  to  back  the 
horse  myself  for  a  good  big  sum.  As  I  said,  I 
love  a  certainty." 

Persons  who  wonder  at  the  acts  of  folly  com- 
mitted by  a  gambler,  whether  on  the  turf  or  at 
a  roulette  table  or  elsewhere,  forget  one 
important  fact,  that  money  loses  all  "value"  in 
the  strict  economical  sense  of  the  word. 
Sovereigns  and  bank-notes  are  the  merest 
counters  which  he  stakes  against  other  count- 
ers for  purposes  of  excitement.  A  man  in 
whom  the  desire  to  make  money  is  genuinely 
and  continuously  the  uppermost  thought  does 


264  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

not  lose  a  fortune  on  the  turf,  and  very  prob- 
ably wins;  that  is  a  fact  which  anti-gambling 
crusaders  might  consider,  with  advantage  to 
the  usefulness  of  their  sermons.  These  ser- 
mons, in  so  far  as  they  are  directed  against 
the  greed  for  gain  evinced  by  gamblers,  are 
simply  unadulterated  nonsense.  I  am  saying 
nothing  against  the  preachers,  whose  work, 
heaven  knows,  is  badly  enough  wanted  in 
modern  Europe;  and  who  for  the  most  part 
are  high-principled,  well-intentioned  men,  say- 
ing what  they  mean  and  meaning  what  they 
say;  eager  to  do  work  of  which  there  is  crying 
need  and  lacking  only  a  little  more  of  that 
detailed  knowledge  without  which  their  dis- 
courses are  magnce  passus  extra  viam.  Their 
especially  favourite  assertion,  for  instance,  that 
the  gambler  is  trying  to  acquire  his  neighbour's 
money  without  working  for  it,  is  enough  to 
make  a  whole  brilliant  series  of  the  most  per- 
suasive lectures  ridiculous  and  useless.  The 
gambler  cares  no  more  about  his  neighbour's 
money  than  he  does  about  his  neighbour's 
wife.  He  gambles  with  bank-notes  and 
sovereigns  because  they  are  the  counters 
appointed  by  convention  for  the  purpose.  He 
would  play  with  bits  of  wood,  or  the  metal 
discs  which  they  give  you  in  the  cloakroom,  or 
a  bundle  of  old  clothes,  with  almost  equal  satis- 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  265 

faction ;  the  fact  being  of  course  that  gambling 
is  as  completely  a  disease  as  a  hundred  others 
which  you  visit  Ems  or  Homburg  to  cure;  only 
unfortunately  the  German  baths  have  not  yet 
been  found  which  will  eradicate  it.  The  Eng- 
lish turf  is  divided  into  three  parts;  gamblers, 
business  men,  who  are  there  to  make  money, 
and  sportsmen,  though  of  course  in  a  few  per- 
sons the  business  and  gambling  instincts  exist 
together  and  are  constantly  fighting  for  the 
mastery.  No  doubt  it  is  because  the  purely 
gambling  passion  does  not  play  a  very  large 
part  on  the  English  race-course  that  it  is 
ignored  and  misunderstood  by  would-be 
reformers.  It  can  only  be  studied  and  accu- 
rately diagnosed  at  Monte  Carlo,  where  our 
preachers  ought  to  be  sent  in  a  body  for  a 
month. 

A  person  who  did  not  know  to  what  a  point 
of  insanity  this  passion  will  bring  a  man  would 
have  hardly  believed  it  possible  that  Muirhead 
would  put  the  whole  of  his  day's  winnings, 
together  with  all  the  money  which  he  had 
brought  with  him  for  the  day's  possible 
losses,  on  Gulliver  for  the  next  race.  A 
gambler  with  the  slightest  shadow  of  business 
instinct  left  in  him,  or  a  sportsman  who  knew 
the  merest  elements  of  racing-business  would 
have  refrained  from  such  an  act  of  idiocy,  for 


266  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

the  cries  of,  "I'll  take  10  to  i,"  had  died  away; 
"8  to  i  bar  i"  had  changed  to  "7  to  i  bar  i," 
and  even  that  had  stopped.  "Take  100  to  12:" 
"Take  8  to  i:"  was  echoing  round  the  ring 
when  Muirhead  came  forward  to  make  his  bet, 
and  a  more  experienced  hand  would  have 
realised  that  he  had  only  to  wait  another  ten 
minutes  to  lay  6  to  i.  However,  he  handed 
,£800  to  Goodleigh,  who  opened  his  eyes  a  little 
at  the  bet  So  little  money  was  being  invested 
on  the  race  that  this  actually  had  the  effect  of 
making  Gulliver  rather  more  steady  in  the  bet- 
ting-market for  a  time.  But  presently  a  bet  of 
"six  monkeys"  was  taken  about  Goldleaf  and 
something  like  a  knock-out  of  the  favourite 
began.  Muirhead  heard  nothing  of  it,  having 
already  taken  his  place  on  a  distant  stand 
whence  he  watched  the  three  horses  turn  into 
line  and  jump  off  together  as  the  flag  dropped. 
The  outsider  was  ten  lengths  in  the  rear  before 
half  a  mile  had  been  covered.  At  the  end  of 
another  half  mile  backers  of  Gulliver  knew 
their  fate,  for  Loates*  arms  began  to  swing,  his 
spurs  touched  the  horse's  side,  and  then  as 
Goldleaf  still  swung  along  at  an  easy  canter 
the  dismayed  plungers  saw  Loates  pick  up  his 
whip,  and  saw  too  that  it  was  only  with  the 
utmost  exertion  that  he  could  keep  his  mount 
level  with  Goldleaf.  From  start  to  finish,  in 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  267 

fact,  there  had  hardly  been  the  slightest  doubt 
as  to  the  result  of  the  race.  At  the  distance 
Kempton  Cannon  had  only  to  let  Goldleaf  go 
in  order  to  come  away  and  win  the  race  by 
three  lengths. 

Watching  a  train  of  men  coming  home  from 
the  English  race-course,  it  is  more  difficult  than 
you  would  think  to  tell  which  are  the  losers 
and  which  are  the  winners.  A  certain  number 
there  are  who  explain  to  their  companions  with 
furious  voices  and  adjectives  more  numerous 
than  various  how  some  horse  had  just  got 
beaten  and  done  them  out  of  a  hundred  or  a 
thousand  pounds;  or  how  they  had  "put"  some 
friend  "on"  to  the  winner  of  a  race  but  had 
unfortunately  backed  something  else  them- 
selves. But  the  greater  part  of  each  train-load 
keeps  its  woes  or  its  triumphs  to  itself,  and  the 
average  English  sportsman,  whether  he  has  lost 
a  fortune  or  won  one,  says  very  little  except 
that  he  is  thirsty.  I  think,  however,  that  a 
certain  craving  for  company,  a  very  strong 
resolution  not  to  be  left  alone  under  any  cir- 
cumstances during  the  next  few  hours,  distin- 
guishes the  loser.  A  man  who  has  won 
money,  if  he  is  an  ordinarily  amiable  person, 
would  on  the  whole  rather  dine  with  half-a- 
dozen  jovial  companions  than  otherwise;  but 
your  man  who  has  lost  means  to  have  a  dinner 


268  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

companion  at  any  price.  I  myself,  after  hav- 
ing been  "discharged  of  my  money  by  the 
bookmakers,"  as  a  delightful  French  acquaint- 
ance of  mine  once  put  it,  would  dine  with  a 
bi-metallist  or  an  impressionist  art  critic,  rather 
than  alone.  But  Muirhead,  who  had  to  be 
back  in  Newcastle  that  evening,  could  find  no 
companion  except  his  own  thoughts,  com- 
pared to  which  the  conversation  of  either  of  the 
two  gentlemen  above  mentioned  would  have 
been  gay  and  amusing.  The  fact  was,  as  he 
told  himself  again  and  again,  that  he  was  very 
nearly  ruined.  That  afternoon,  after  the  race 
for  the  Derby  cup,  when  those  bank-notes  were 
bulging  out  his  pockets,  he  had  allowed  him- 
self to  realise  that,  but  for  Parmesan's  victory, 
he  would  have  been  in  what  his  racing  com- 
panions called  a  tight  place.  Previous  days' 
losses  had  been  considerable.  His  story  of 
ready  money  was  almost  at  an  end,  and  all  the 
rest  of  his  fortune  was  invested  in  the  Freehold 
— invested  in  that  literal  sense  of  the  word 
which  means  hemmed  round  by  a  good  many 
difficulties  about  getting  it  out  again.  Unfor- 
tunately, now  that  he  had  lost  those  bank- 
notes, he  could  not  equally  quickly  lose  with 
them  the  realisation  of  his  position.  Except 
for  this  Freehold  money — or  rather  paper — and 
for  the  twenty  pounds  which  he  had  lent  to  his 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  269 

acquaintance  on  the  Derby  race-course,  which 
was  an  asset  of  even  less  doubtful  value,  he 
had  barely  ten  pounds  left  in  the  world,  and 
his  quarter's  pay  as  local  manager  of  the 
Society  was  not  due  till  Christmas.  The 
business  instinct  which  told  him  that  he  must 
find  money  somewhere;  the  gambling  one 
which  told  him  that  he  must  get  back 
those  losses  at  all  costs,  were  united  in  his 
mind  as  he  at  last  went  to  bed  muttering:  "I 
will  go  to  Manchester  and  win  it  back.  If  I 
have  to  commit  robbery  and  murder  to  get  the 
money,  I  will  go  to  Manchester  and  win  those 
losses  back!" 


CHAPTER    XXIX 

Lady  Eastney  was  driving  along  Piccadilly 
in  her  victoria  with  Bertie  Alford  seated  by  her 
side  and  Angela  on  the  small  seat  in  front  of 
her.  It  was  mid-November  and  bitterly  cold, 
and  the  Marchioness  and  her  little  daughter 
were  wrapped  in  lace-edged  furs.  Lady 
Eastney's  face  appeared  delicately  rose- 
coloured,  fretfully  angry  above  her  furs.  The 
small  person's  appeared  very  white  and  blue 
and  patient  above  hers.  Mr.  Alford,  with 
philosophy  on  his  lips  and  pity  in  his  soul,  was 
discussing  the  situation  with  his  companion. 

"Fame,"  he  was  saying,  "is  the  incredulous 
surprise  shown  by  a  man's  friends  when  he 
does  anything  noteworthy.  Infamy  is  the 
'I-told-you  -  so  -  that's  -  just  -  what  - 1  -  expected' 
chorus  sung  by  his  friends  and  relatives  when 
he  does  anything  scandalous.  In  the  nature  of 
things  this  chorus  must  be  more  common  than 
the  surprise ;  therefore  your  lot  is  a  very  com- 
mon one,  and  to  you  who  hate  to  be  eccentric 
that  ought  to  be  a  consolation. ' ' 

"I  loathe  notoriety,  and  we  are  notorious!" 
said  the  woman. 

270 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  271 

"Fame  and  infamy  are  easy  to  acquire,  but 
very  difficult  to  keep,"  said  her  companion. 
"In  painting  and  book- writing  we  demand  a 
celebrated  and  a  new  name.  In  music  we  only 
want  a  celebrated  writer.  Outside  these  three 
we  want  nothing  but  a  new  man.  You  are,  or 
soon  will  be,  a  nine  days'  wonder;  but  take  it 
as  philosophically  as  you  can  during  the  nine 
days,  and  be  sure  that  with  any  luck  they  will 
be  reduced  to  seven.  For  myself,  if  I  antici- 
pated such  an  ill — and  even  a  man  who  is  not 
a  company-director  may  find  himself  in  the 
dock  at  any  moment — I  should  buy  an  alma- 
nack, and  mark  off  the  ninth  day,  and  sit  down 
in  front  of  it  and  say,  'Respice  finem. '  " 

"Is  that  your  idea  of  consolation?"  asked  the 
woman  scornfully. 

"It  is  the  kind  of  consolation  which  I 
thought  you  would  like  best, "  said  the  young 
man  with  a  look  of  pity  and  affection  at  her. 
"Some  women's  idea  of  consolation  is  to  be 
told  that  in  spite  of  all  affliction  their  com- 
plexion is  still  perfect  and  their  hat  a  triumph 
of  genius ;  but  I  did  not  suppose  you  wanted 
that.  I  say  to  you  what  I  would  like  people  to 
say  to  me  when  a  surgeon  was  around  with  a 
knife,  or  a  dentist  with  pincers:  'It  will  soon 
be  over.'  " 

"It  will  certainly  be  over,"  said  the  Mar- 


272  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

chioness  bitterly,  "when  I  have  every  door  in 
London  shut  in  my  face  and  can't  have  a 
single  guest  for  a  dinner  party.  .  .  ." 

"The  word  'guest'  is  derived  from  the 
Sanscrit  'ghas, '  which  means  'to  eat  up.'  One 
can  always  get  guests. ' ' 

"Don't  talk  nonsense.  I  say  when  one  can't 
get  a  single  person  of  one's  own  set  into  one's 
house,  when  Eastney  has  been  obliged  to  sell 
the  houses  and  has  been  turned  out  of  every 
club  in  London  .  .  . " 

' '  My  dear,  he  will  do  like  Roberts,  my  tailor, 
who  bought  a  yacht  and  said  he  must  have  the 
burgee  of  the  R.T.Y.C.  or  the  R.C.Y.C.  or 
something  of  the  sort  to  fly  on  it.  But  he 
couldn't  get  elected  to  a  single  yacht  club  in 
England.  At  last  I  found  written  after  the 
name  of  his  yacht  M.O.B.Y.C.,  and  asked  him 
what  it  meant.  He  said  it  stood  for  'My  Own 
Blooming  Yacht  Club.'  Suggest  that  to 
Eastney." 

"You  are  perfectly  hateful  this  afternoon, 
Bertie.  You  would  go  on  with  your  silly  jokes 
and  stories  if  I  told  you  I  was  going  to  poison 
myself  to-night." 

"Well,  that  remains  to  be  seen.  In  the 
meantime  you  have  merely  told  me  that  you 
are  going  to  call  on  the  Duchess  of  Dovedale. 
As  a  matter  of  courage  the  visit  is  superior  to 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  273 

poison.  It  strikes  me  that  it  is  also  very 
nearly  as  foolish." 

"I  owe  her  a  call,"  said  Lady  Eastney,  biting 
her  lips.  "Here  is  Down  Street,  where  you  are 
going  to  get  out.  Come  with  me?  No,  of 
course  you  are  not  coming  with  me.  You 
must  get  out  here.  Goodbye. ' ' 

Lady  Eastney  drove  into  the  courtyard  of 
Dovedale  House  with  lips  which  were  a  little 
white  in  spite  of  biting,  and  eyes  whose  reso- 
lute stare  could  not  hide  their  nervousness. 
Through  the  great  hall  with  its  powdered 
footmen  standing  about,  up  a  small  side  stair- 
case, through  two  big  saloons  and  into  a  small 
gaily-decorated  drawing-room  beyond,  she 
passed  with  Angela's  hand  held  tightly  in  hers. 
She  waited  here  for  a  few  minutes  and  at  last 
the  doors  were  opened  again  to  admit  the 
Duchess  of  Dovedale,  a  woman  of  five  or  six- 
and-thirty,  tall  and  rather  clumsily  made, 
untidily  dressed,  and  with  a  slight  air  of  sur- 
prise on  her  face. 

"So  you  are  still  here,"  said  Lady  Eastney, 
after  the  usual  greetings.  "You  are  beginning 
to  love  London  as  much  as  I  do." 

"We  are  going  away  on  Tuesday.  Some 
people  are  coming  to  dine  to-morrow  and  Mon- 
day, and  then  we  are  going." 

"Yes?"     Hostess  and  visitor  had  been  the 


274  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

most  intimate  friends  some  time  ago,  meeting 
one  another  every  day  and  knowing  all  about 
one  another's  friends,  entertainments  and 
guests.  Lady  Eastney  understood  the  inten- 
tion of  those  words,  "some  people." 

"Are  you  stopping  on  till  Christmas?"  asked 
the  Duchess  after  a  just  perceptible  pause. 

"Probably,  or  perhaps  we  may  go  to  Cannes 
earlier  this  year.  The  winter  seems  to  have 
come  on  so  much  sooner  than  usual." 

"To  Cannes?  Really?  Shall  you  go  there 
again  this  season?" 

"I  hope  so,"  said  Lady  Eastney,  who  had 
nerved  herself  for  this  with  only  a  very  slight 
hope  of  escaping  it ;  so  she  went  on  resolutely 
enough:  "We  shan't  be  able  to  afford  the  same 
villa  that  we  had  last  year,  I  suppose,  so  we 
shall  go  to  an  hotel.  It  is  really  more  com- 
fortable in  hotels  in  many  ways,  besides  being 
so  much  cheaper.  Eastney  likes  it  better  in 
every  way. ' ' 

"Will  Lord  Eastney  be  there  this  year?" 
asked  the  Duchess,  and  looked  at  her  visitor 
with  raised  eyebrows  and  a  slight  laugh. 
When  a  woman  means  to  insult  another  now- 
adays, she  does  not  as  a  rule  trouble  to  wrap 
up  the  poison  in  honey.  To  compose  courtly 
phrases  with  a  sting  in  them  is  too  much 
trouble. 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  275 

"It  is  difficult  to  be  decisive  about  any 
arrangements  six  weeks  beforehand,  isn't  it?" 
said  Lady  Eastney  with  a  smile.  She  had  not 
come  here  to  pick  a  quarrel  but  to  find  out 
whether  the  world  was  going  to  pick  a  quarrel. 
"Have  you  heard  that  Sophie  Arnold  is 
engaged?" 

"Yes,  I  heard  about  it." 

"They  will  be  married  in  January.  His 
father  has  given  him  Bedford  House.  They 
are  in  luck." 

"I  heard  about  it." 

There  were  a  few  half- whispered  words  from 
Angela,  and  Lady  Eastney  asked:  "May  she 
go  up  and  see  Bee  and  Mary?" 

"They  have  gone  out,  or  they  are  just  going 
out,"  said  the  duchess,  with  a  glance  under 
her  eyes,  and  a  slight  lifting  of  the  eyebrows, 
and  then  a  long  full  stare  at  Lady  Eastney. 
Only  a  woman  could  have  thought  of  hurting 
another  woman  through  her  child  like  that. 

There  was  another  pause,  of  longer  duration 
this  time,  and  then  Lady  Eastney  began  again 
resolutely:  "I  see  that  Mr.  Lightfoot  has  got  a 
picture  into  the  British  Artists'  Exhibition. 
He  is  painting  Frances  Hampton's  portrait. 
That  ought  to  be  a  success  for  him  at  the 
Academy." 

"Oh,  yes." 


276  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

"He  is  very  clever  and  has  been  very 
unlucky.  I  had  a  good  mind  to  let  him  paint 
me.  I  should  like  to  help  him." 

"Wouldn't  he  want  to  be  paid  for  the  pic- 
ture?" Her  Grace's  remarks  were  getting 
broader  as  Lady  Eastney  appeared  to  be 
impervious  to  them. 

"I  suppose  so.  I  did  not  exactly  mean  that 
I  was  going  to  ask  him  to  paint  me  for  noth- 
ing." 

As  she  said  this  Lady  Eastney  rose  to  take 
her  leave.  She  had  asked  her  question  and 
received  the  answer,  and  there  was  nothing 
more  to  wait  for.  The  two  women  stood  and 
looked  into  one  another's  eyes  for  a  moment — 
the  two  peeresses  who  to  some  extent  had  been 
rival  queens  in  London  for  seven  or  eight 
years  past;  who  had  chatted  over  every  single 
detail  of  one  another's  houses,  lovers,  dresses, 
parties  and  children;  who  had  lorded  it 
together  at  Sandown,  Ascot,  Hurlingham,  in 
Scotland,  Paris  and  Homburg,  with  a  crowd  of 
followers,  male  and  female,  in  their  train,  with 
money,  credit,  wit,  admiration,  constant 
change  and  excitement,  and  everything  which 
makes  life  worth  living  around  them.  They 
had  been  neither  friends  nor  enemies,  merely 
together  always,  sharers  in  everything  good 
and  bad  which  Europe  had  to  offer.  Now 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  277 

something  had  gone,  or  was  about  to  go  wrong 
with  one  of  these  chance  partners,  and  the 
other  proceeded  to  cut  the  thin  cord  which 
bound  them  together. 

Lady  Eastney  held  out  her  hand  and  as  the 
other  put  her  limp  hand  into  it,  the  visitor  said 
very  quietly:  "Is  this  a  last  good-bye?  Is 
there — is  there  no  pity  for  me?" 

"Pity?"  said  the  other  with  a  cold  stare.  "I 
really  do  not  know  what  you  mean. ' ' 

Which  was  quite  true, 


CHAPTER    XXX 

"I  am  going  to  ask  you  a  question  which  of 
course  you  will  answer  or  not  as  you  please.  I 
really  have  no  right  to  an  answer,  and  hardly 
expect  it." 

Bertie  Alford,  dining  in  Portman  Square 
that  evening,  was  sitting  with  Lord  Eastney 
after  dinner. 

"I  am  not  fond  of  questions  and  have  had 
rather  too  many  of  them  lately,"  was  the 
gloomy  reply;  "but  go  on." 

"Can  you  tell  me  about  how  much  longer 
the  smash  of  the  Freehold  will  be  delayed?" 

"Oh,  damn  the  Freehold!" 

"That's  been  done  already,  hasn't  it?"  said 
Alford;  "I  wanted  to  know,  if  you  don't  mind 
telling  me,  when  the  event  is  to  be 
announced?" 

"Would  you  think  it  rude  of  me,  considering 
the  fact  that  you  are  my  guest  here,  if  I  were 
to  ask  you  to  mind  your  own  business?" 

" Certainly  not, *'  said  Bertie.  "It  is  a  per- 
fectly natural  reply  to  my  question." 

Each  man  sipped  a  whole  glass  of  claret  in 
278 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  279 

silence,  then  Lord  Eastney  pushed  the  decanter 
towards  Mr.  Alford  with  a  "help  yourself." 
They  both  rilled  their  glasses — the  claret  was 
Chateau  Margaux  of  1869,  and  a  man  would 
have  been  a  fool  who  refused  another  glass  of 
it  because  of  a  woman  or  a  fortune — and  then 
Lord  Eastney  began  again  abruptly: — 

"I  want  the  news  taken  to  my  wife  somehow, 
and  you  can  break  it  to  her,  I  dare  say,  as  well 
as  anybody.  The  fact  is,  it's  all  over — would 
you  care  for  some  dry  biscuits?  Frazer  has 
forgotten  them — and  though  I  do  not  know 
exactly  what  will  come  next,  I  do  know  that  it 
will  be  something  most  infernally  unpleasant. 
I  don't  suppose  that  I  can  be  put  in  prison, 
though,  on  my  soul  and  conscience,  I  don't  see 
why  I  shouldn't  be,  quite  as  much  as  some  of 
the  other  chaps  who  will,  but  there  will  be  a 
big  scandal.  I  shall  have  to  give  up  every 
penny  and  we  shall  practically  be  paupers.  I 
do  not  mean  that  we  shall  starve  on  a  thousand 
a  year  in  a  house  at  Brighton  or  a  flat  in  Paris ; 
I  mean  that  I  shall  have  very  considerable 
difficulty  in  putting  my  hands  on  fifty  pounds. 
I  should  say  that  the  whole  matter  will  be  pub- 
lic property  next  week,  certainly  before  the 
end  of  this  month.  If  you  wish  to  tell  Lady 
Eastney  so,  I  shall  be  rather  obliged  to  you 
than  otherwise  for  doing  it.  She  must  know 


280  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

somehow  sooner  or  later,  and  I  for  one  have  no 
wish  to  tell  her. ' ' 

"Your  confidences  are  at  least  complete  now 
they  have  come,"  said  Mr.  Alford  drily. 

"Are  they?"  asked  Lord  Eastney  quietly. 
"Do  you  know  the  whole  business  now?  If  so, 
then  you  know  a  good  deal  more  than  I  do 
myself." 

"What  will  happen  to  all  those  men,  Mar- 
shall, Robinson,  and  that  crew  whom  we  enter- 
tained in  Stoke  last  autumn?" 

"What  the  devil  do  I  care?"  was  the  surly 
reply. 

"Nothing,  I  feel  sure,"  said  Mr.  Alford; 
"but  do  you  know?" 

The  other  shrugged  his  shoulders:  "Arrest, 
trial,  imprisonment,  escape — how  can  I  tell? 
They  deserve  all  they  get. ' ' 

"Yes,"  was  the  meaning  answer,  "I  can 
quite  believe  that,"  and  Mr.  Alford,  having 
finished  his  third  glass  of  claret,  rose  and  left 
the  room. 

Lord  Eastney  laughed  quietly,  and  having 
finished  the  bottle  put  on  a  hat  and  coat  and 
drove  off  to  Margets'  Rooms,  where  another 
meeting  of  the  directors  had  been  fixed  for  10 
o'clock  that  night.  He  sat  through  the  busi- 
ness, weary,  absent-minded,  smiling  occasion- 
ally with  a  far-off  tired  gaze.  How  much  did 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  281 

he  really  care  about  the  scene  which  he  could 
pretty  well  guess  was  going  on  in  his  own 
house?  Not  very  much,  he  said  to  himself. 
Lady  Eastney  had  been  resignedly  acquiescent, 
sometimes  he  admitted  to  himself  almost  good- 
natured,  in  helping  him  in  his  work.  She  had 
many  good  friends  of  her  own  and  had  offered 
no  active  opposition  to  his  attempts  on  their 
purses.  She  had  helped  him  actively  and  ably 
in  robbing  his  own  friends.  So  said  the 
Marquis  to  himself  now,  not  caring  any  longer 
to  mince  words  about  his  own  proceedings; 
yet  the  woman  hated  and  despised  him  and 
had  been  very  unhappy  with  him.  Slightly 
and  vaguely  her  contempt  irritated  him.  He 
admitted  cynically  enough  that  he  deserved  it, 
but  he  knew,  and  she  ought  to  have  known, 
that  but  for  the  circumstances  of  his  poverty 
and  horribly  encumbered  position,  he  would 
have  been  different.  The  business  of  the 
Freehold  Society  jarred  on  himself  as  much  as 
it  could  possibly  jar  on  her,  and  she  ought  to 
have  recognised  this.  She  had  judged  and 
condemned  him  without  mercy,  and  was  now, 
he  supposed,  going  to  abandon  him.  His 
pride  revolted  a  little  against  the  idea,  but  a 
certain  sense  of  justice,  and  a  feeling  that  he 
had  lost  all  right  to  judge  or  interfere  or 
make  any  claim  as  regards  his  wife,  prevented 


282  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

him  from  taking  any  action.  Weeks  ago,  when 
she  had  hinted  not  obscurely  what  she  meant 
to  do — and  indeed  he  had  read  her  intentions 
himself  and  needed  no  such  hints — he  had 
resolved  not  to  intervene  by  word  or  look  or 
deed;  and  so  now,  when  he  supposed  the 
decisive  moment  was  at  hand,  he  sat  in 
Margets'  Rooms  listening  to  sums  all  of  which 
ended  in  one  answer — ruin ;  to  calculations  and 
forecasts  which  all  ended  in  one  word — dis- 
grace. He  kept  on  signing  papers,  more  than 
half -conscious  all  the  time  that  he  ought  not  to 
be  signing  nine-tenths  of  them.  He  agreed  to 
this  and  that  recommendation,  fully  aware 
while  he  was  doing  it  that  he  was  kicking  down 
one  more  ladder  by  which  he  might  possibly 
have  climbed  out  of  dishonour.  But  it  was  all 
done  with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders,  and  a  bitter 
laugh,  and  the  thought,  "What  does  a  detail 
more  or  less  matter  if  there  is  no  one  but 
myself  to  pay  the  price. ' '  Perhaps  after  all  he 
did  care  a  little  about  what  was  going  on  in 
Portman  Square. 

Mr.  Alford  had  left  the  dining-room  and 
gone  straight  to  the  little  boudoir  where  Lady 
Eastney  went  after  dinner.  He  found  her 
there  standing  by  the  window,  looking  out  into 
the  November  night.  A  moon  was  shining  out 
of  the  dark  winter  sky  on  to  a  little  bare  black 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  283 

garden  at  the  back  of  the  house,  on  to  the  tall 
unbroken  walls  which  surrounded  it  and  the 
ugly  lines  of  chimney-pots  and  stables  beyond. 
One  small  electric  lamp  was  burning  in  the 
room,  but  its  heavy  pink  shade  could  not  hide 
the  ghastly  whiteness  of  the  woman's  face. 
She  turned  to  the  young  man  as  he  came  in 
and  held  out  both  hands.  As  he  took  them  it 
was  like  taking  up  two  bits  of  ice,  and  her  lips 
as  she  held  them  up  to  be  kissed  were  almost 
as  cold. 

"Have  you  asked  him?"  she  said. 

"  Yes,  I  asked  him." 

"Bertie!  For  the  love  of  heaven  don't  let 
me  drag  it  all  out  of  you  by  questions.  Pray 
do  tell  me  the  whole  story  rationally." 

"I  am  going  to  tell  you,  my  dear.  There  is 
nothing  the  least  exciting  to  tell.  We  haven't 
been  flinging  decanters  about,  or  anything  of 
that  sort.  I  asked  him  in  just  so  many  words 
when  the  smash  was  due.  First  he  told  me  to 
mind  my  own  business,  then  he  said  in  effect 
that  it  had  come — that  it  was  a  matter  of  days, 
or  hours.  That  was  all." 

"That  was  all?     On  your  honour?" 

"Well;  almost.  He  asked  me" — the  young 
man  laughed  nervously — "to  come  and  break  it 
to  you." 

"Did  he?"     The  woman's  eyes  flashed  with 


284  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

rage,  Bertie  could  not  imagine  why.  ' '  So  that 
is  all  he  cares!  And  what  are  we  going  to 
do,  you  and  I?  Will  you  keep  your  promise? 
Will  you  take  we  away?" 

"Of  course  I  am  going  to  keep  my  promise," 
answered  Alford  gravely,  and  looking  at  her 
with  eyes  in  which  there  was  infinite  pity  but 
nothing  else.  "I  only  want  to  be  quite  sure 
that  you  want  to  come  with  me.  We  will  go 
now,  to-night  if  you  like,  and  where  you  like." 

"And  will  you  forgive  me  for  ruining  your 
lifelike  this?" 

"I  have  nothing  to  forgive,  dear.  It  is  only 
kind  of  you  to  choose  me  to  save  you. ' ' 

"You  will  never  say  anything  more  than 
that?  You  will  never  change  from  that?" 

"How  should  I  change?  What  more  could  I 
say?" 

"If  you  could  say  that  you  love  me!"  cried 
the  woman  passionately.  "If  you  would  only 
just  once  say  that!" 

"I  love  you,  dearest.  You  know  that  I  love 
you  more  than  anybody  on  earth." 

Lady  Eastney  stood  very  still  for  a  moment, 
crying  silently.  Then  she  shook  her  head 
slightly  and,  freeing  herself  from  Alford's 
arms,  moved  away  to  the  window.  The  man 
stood  there  with  a  slightly  blank  look  on  his 
face.  He  had  done  his  best  to  persuade  his 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  285 

companion  that  he  was  in  love  with  her,  and 
she  had  seen  through  him  perfectly  clearly — 
had  seen  that  he  was  simply  sorry  for  her  and 
weakly  good-natured.  Through  the  long 
pause  he  stood  there  thinking  and  his  thoughts 
were  more  clear  than  pleasant.  Lady  Eastney 
was  in  love  with  him  because  he  had  stood  by 
her  with  help  and  sympathy  while  all  other 
friends  were  dropping  away.  She  thought 
that  she  had  only  to  escape  to  Italy  with  him 
and  Angela  in  order  to  get  a  divorce,  marry 
her  lover  and  live  happy  with  him  and  her 
child  ever  afterwards.  Bertie  knew  better, 
but  it  sounded  horrible  to  speak  out  a  few 
facts  just  now.  To  spend  thirty  years  making 
jokes  at  every  good  or  evil  which  life  brings 
before  you  makes  the  time  pass  pleasantly 
enough,  but  the  worst  of  it  is  that,  when  a 
crisis  arrives  which  refuses  to  be  smoothed 
away  by  jokes  or  epigrams,  and  demands 
serious  thought,  you  have  no  serious  thoughts 
with  which  to  meet  the  demand.  A  decision 
which  will  merely  influence  the  important  but 
strictly  ephemeral  question  of  where  you  are  to 
dine  that  night  differs  of  course  only  in  degree, 
and  not  in  kind,  from  the  decision  which  will 
affect  the  whole  of  the  rest  of  your  life.  But 
somehow  or  other  the  numerous  dinner 
decisions  are  found  to  be  a  very  inadequate 


286  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

training  for  the  life  decision.  Over  this  ques- 
tion, as  over  the  question  whether  he  should 
order  claret  or  champagne  for  dinner,  Bertie 
shut  his  mental  eyes,  and  shrugged  his 
shoulders,  and  said  that  it  would  be  all  the 
same  a  hundred  years  hence. 

"I  have  sometimes  thought"  —  Lady 
Eastney's  voice  broke  in  on  his  desultory  and 
scattered  thoughts,  almost  making  the  young 
man  start — "I  have  sometimes  thought  that 
the  prodigal  son  was  a  very  lucky  person  to  be 
able  to  say:  'I  will  arise  and  go  to  my  Father,' 
whenever  he  pleased.  It  seems  to  me  that  it 
would  be  easy  to  live  with  the  swine  and  eat 
the  husks  if  you  knew  that  you  could  leave 
them  whenever  you  chose,  at  the  price  of  just 
a  little  humiliation.  You  and  I  will  not  be 
able  to  do  that,  you  know,  Bertie.  When  we 
do  this  thing  that  we  are  talking  of,  it  will  be 
done  for  ever.  We  may  humiliate  ourselves 
into  the  dust  and  cry  that  we  had  .sinned 
against  heaven  and  before  the  world,  till  we 
can  cry  no  more ;  but  it  will  be  no  use.  There 
will  be  no  return  for  us.  It  is  for  all  our 
lives." 

The  young  man  looked  at  her  with  wide 
startled  eyes.  She  had  put  into  words  so 
clearly  and  suddenly  what  he  had  been  vaguely 
thinking,  that  he  could  not  hide  the  effect 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  287 

which  the  words  had  on  him.  The  woman 
saw  this  and,  with  a  glance  in  which  love, 
entreaty  and  anxiety  were  mingled,  she  turned 
round  to  the  window  again,  as  if  wishing  to 
give  him  time  to  think  over  what  she  had 
said.  But  the  feeling  uppermost  now  in 
Alford's  mind  was  one  of  annoyance  that  she 
should  have  so  clearly  read  his  thoughts,  and 
so  clearly  perceived  that  his  protests  of  affec- 
tion were  unreal.  He  came  up  to  her  and  put 
his  arms  round  her  again,  saying  eagerly: — 

"How  often  do  you  want  me  to  tell  you  that 
I  love  you?  Apart  from  all  your  troubles, 
apart  from  every  bit  of  sympathy  which  I  have 
for  you,  I  love  you,  dearest.  I  am  thankful  for 
all  your  troubles  because  they  are  going  to 
give  you  to  me.  I  was  thankful  when  Eastney 
told  me  to-night  that  the  smash  had  come, 
because  I  knew  it  meant  that  my  turn  had 
come  at  last.  I  love  you,  darling!  Surely  you 
must  believe  it." 

"Sometimes  I  do  almost,"  she  answered 
softly,  "and  then  again  I  feel  that  I  am  a  fool 
to  believe  it.  Why  should  you  care  for  me 
who  do  nothing  but  worry  you  with  my 
miseries?  You  like  people  who  laugh,  and  I 
never  laugh  now." 

"I  love  you,  my  dear,  laughing  or  crying, 
troubled  or  happy.  It  is  so  ridiculous  to  doubt 


288  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

that.  You  don't  doubt  it,  really?  What  more 
in  the  world  could  I  do  to  prove  it  to  you?" 

"Nothing!  nothing!"  she  answered  with 
some  contentment  in  her  voice  for  the 
moment.  "Have  we  really  settled  then  to  go 
away?  Is  everything  decided?" 

"Everything,"  said  Bertie  recklessly,  re- 
solved that  he  would  not  initiate  any  more 
doubts  for  himself  to  smooth  away  afterwards. 
"We  are  going  by  the  eleven  o'clock  train 
to-morrow  to  Paris,  you  and  Angela  and  I. 
Let  us  go  upstairs  and  tell  the  baby  about  it. 
Does  she  know  anything?" 

"I  told  her  that  you  might  perhaps  take  me 
and  her  away  for  a  few  days  soon,  and  she  was 
delighted.  She  is  quite  used  to  that  of 
course." 

"We  must  tell  her  not  to  talk  about  it  this 
time.  Come  along!" 

Bertie  Alford  knew  his  way  very  well  to  the 
nursery  portion  of  this  house,  having  visited  it 
often  enough  before  with  his  present  compan- 
ion. Lady  Eastney  had  one  real  sentiment  left 
in  the  world  amongst  the  purely  negative  senti- 
ments— disenchantment,  disappointment,  fail- 
ure, and  regrets — which  made  up  her  life,  and 
this  was  a  passion  of  love  for  her  only  child. 
She  estimated  two-thirds  of  her  friends  by  what 
Angela  thought  of  them.  A  house  or  place 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  289 

was  dull  or  pleasant  to  her  chiefly  according  to 
whether  Angela  was  unhappy  or  happy  there. 
She  had  liked  Alford  himself  at  first  because 
Angela  approved  of  him.  For  people  who 
liked  her  child  and  gave  her  small  presents  and 
treats,  the  Marchioness  would  do  anything. 
For  people  who  snubbed  the  little  one  in  any 
way  she  had  a  hatred  which  was  as  bitter  as  it 
was  endless.  The  whole  business  was  perhaps 
a  trifle  ridiculous,  but  it  was  the  strongest 
feature  in  Lady  Eastney's  life.  The  child's 
bedroom  was  a  big  front  room  on  the  fourth 
floor.  A  fire  was  burning  in  it,  and  a  great  red 
glow  lit  up  the  white  wood  bed  with  its  muslin 
curtains  and  lace  pillows  and  pink  ribbons. 
The  little  one  had  been  expecting  her  visitors 
and  greeted  them  with  a  low  laugh  of  con- 
tentment as  they  came  in.  Bertie  came  for- 
ward first,  but  Lady  Eastney  brushed  by 
him  and  took  the  small  white  figure  in  her1 
arms. 

"We  are  going  away  to-morrow.  Bertie  is 
going  to  take  us.  Aren't  you  pleased,  my 
baby?" 

"Oh,  yes!     How  long  shall  we  stay?" 

"For  a  very,  very  long  time.  Even  I  don't 
know  how  long.  Would  you  rather  stay  with 
us,  sweetheart,  or  come  home  again?" 

"Mother,  darling!"     .     ,     ,     the  small  lips 


290  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

could  not  so  suddenly  find  words  to  explain 
that  where  her  mother  was,  Angela  wanted  to 
be  too,  and  that  there  all  desire  ended. 

"And  you  do  love  Bertie  too,  don't  you?" 

"Of  course  I  do.  But,  Bertie,  you  will  take 
Esther  too,  won't  you?" 

"Are  we  going  to  take  her?"  asked  the 
young  man  in  a  low  whisper. 

"Oh,  I  suppose  so,"  said  Lady  Eastney,  who 
was  engaged  in  tying  up  a  refractory  curl  of 
Angela's.  "We  had  better  come  and  speak  to 
her.  Here  she  is.  Esther!" 

The  woman  who  came  in  now  and  came  up 
to  Angela's  bedside  was  a  tall,  quietly-dressed 
person  with  a  slight  stoop,  and  eyes  which 
drew  all  children  to  her  like  a  magnet. 

"We  are  going  to  Paris  to-morrow  morning," 
said  Lady  Eastney,  "Mr.  Alford  and  Angela 
and  I,  and  we  want  you  to  come  too ;  but  we 
must  ask  you  first  whether  you  mind.  Will 
you  come  with  us?" 

"I  am  going  wherever  you  and  my  little  one 
go,  my  lady,"  answered  the  woman  very 
gravely. 

"And  you  will  stay  with  us  always?" 

"Until" — she  moved  the  sheets  about  with 
one  hand,  and  put  the  other  on  Lady  Eastney's 
arm — "until  I  am  obliged  to  bring  Lady 
Angela  home  alone. ' ' 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  291 

"Alone!"  echoed  the  Marchioness,  not 
understanding. 

"There  will  be  no  resisting  certain  orders 
when  they  come,  my  lady." 

"You  talk  the  same  nonsense  as  Mr.  Alford, " 
said  Lady  Eastney  in  a  low,  nervous  voice. 
"Do  you  think,"  she  went  on,  pushing  the 
woman  aside  and  holding  the  child  tight  in  her 
arms,  "that  anybody  or  anything  could  take 
her  away?  I  would  simply  kill  the  person 
who  tried.  You  are  talking  nonsense." 

"I  am  saying  what  I  know,  my  lady,  and 
what  you  know.  Mr.  Seaton  told  you  so  when 
you  went  to  see  him.  You  argued  with  him, 
and  he  told  it  you  again  and  again." 

"There  is  no  argument  about  it, "  answered 
Lady  Eastney,  "I  simply  tell  you  that  I  would 
kill  the  person  who  tried.  But,  Bertie  .  .  ." 

"Well?" 

"I  think  I  would  rather  put  off  the  start  till 
to-morrow  evening.  It  would  be  better  in  a 
good  many  ways  to  go  at  night,  and  I  want  to 
see  that  lawyer  again.  We  must  come  away 
now  and  leave  the  chicken  to  go  to  sleep.  You 
must  tell  nobody  about  our  journey,  do  you 
hear,  baby  darling?  You  mustn't  say  a  word 
to  anybody.  Yes;  we  will  go  to-morrow  evening 
instead  of  in  the  morning.  I  must  know  when 
and  where  to  be  on  my  guard  about  the  child. " 


CHAPTER   XXXI 

Gerald  Franklin  was  for  the  moment 
extremely  pleased  with  liimself.  For  a  year 
or  two  past  he  had  been  chafing  at  the  fact  that 
none  of  the  big  dividends  being  paid  by  the 
Freehold  Building  Society  could  come  to  him, 
and  that  he  was  obliged  to  take  4  per  cent,  for 
his  ^3000.  Of  course  he  had  no  faith  in  the 
stability  of  the  Society,  but  he  had  a  most 
profound  faith  in  his  own  ability  to  make  the 
most  of  a  speculation,  and  he  was  entirely  cer- 
tain that  if  he  had  that  ^3000  in  his  own  hands 
he  could  get  10  per  cent,  for  the  money  in  one 
quarter  or  another,  and  keep  the  capital  per- 
fectly secure.  Now,  at  last,  with  Marshall's 
assistance,  he  had  managed  to  get  hold  of  the 
capital.  It  was  not  to  be  invested  in  the  Free- 
hold; neither  Lowe  nor  Miss  Bertram  would 
have  allowed  that ;  but  they  had  agreed  to  the 
purchase  of  certain  shares  in  the  Carlton  Gold 
Mines.  Gerald  had  been  extremely  anxious 
to  buy  them,  Marshall  had  strongly  backed  up 
his  request,  and  the  Railway  stock,  which  had 
been  standing  in  Lowe's  name  in  a  very  casual 
fashion  for  the  past  three  years,  had  been  sold. 
292 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  293 

Marshall  had  represented  during  a  flying  visit 
to  Staffordshire  that,  as  the  shares  were  still 
fluctuating  in  price,  it  would  be  rational  to  buy 
them  as  cheaply  as  possible,  and  accordingly, 
without  the  slightest  demur,  Lowe  had 
handed  him  the  ^3000  to  be  expended  in  the 
purchase  of  the  Carlton  shares  whenever  he 
thought  proper.  This  confiding  transaction 
had  taken  place  on  a  certain  Tuesday,  and  on 
the  Friday  evening,  after  business  hours, 
Gerald,  seeing  that  the  shares  had  fallen  very 
slightly,  and  judging  that  Marshall  might  have 
selected  that  occasion  to  purchase  some, 
decided  to  go  round  to  his  rooms  and  make 
inquiries.  He  walked  down  Great  Ormond 
Street  and  across  Queen's  Square  and  Russell 
Square  with  a  certain  amount  of  elation  in  his 
soul,  for  things  had  been  going  well  with  him 
lately,  not  only  financially  but  in  new  and 
curious  directions  about  which  he  understood 
much  less.  Sympathy  of  any  kind  with  his 
schemes  and  hopes  was  new  to  him.  Sym- 
pathy of  the  kind  which  Sophie  Ethridge  gave 
was  a  most  exciting  novelty. 

The  street  lamps  gleamed  in  long  yellow 
lines  across  the  wide  pavements  of  Queen's 
Square  and  Russell  Square  as  he  crossed  them. 
A  man  with  his  head  bandaged  up,  and  a  nun 
standing  by  his  side,  were  looking  out  of  the 


294  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

window  at  the  Italian  Hospital,  and  Gerald 
spared  him  a  glance  of  pity.  On  the  ragged 
little  school  children  playing  around  the  garden 
railings;  on  the  old  flower  woman  standing  at 
the  corner  of  Southampton  Row  with  her 
daughter  by  her  side,  he  bestowed  a  benignant 
smile.  The  rooms  of  some  of  the  houses  in 
Russell  Square  were  lighted  up,  and  between 
half-drawn  curtains  he  could  see  here  and  there 
an  old-fashioned  sombrely- furnished  dining- 
room,  where  the  maid-servants  were  laying  the 
table  for  dinner.  At  the  front  door  of  one 
house  the  owner  was  standing  watching  a  pass- 
ing omnibus,  with  his  latch-key  half  inserted  in 
the  key-hole.  A  small  barrel  which  looked  as 
if  it  might  contain  oysters  was  in  his  other 
hand,  and  contented  prosperity  was  written  on 
every  line  of  his  face  and  clothes.  Gerald 
glanced  at  him,  and  recognising  a  partner  of  a 
well-known  firm  of  accountants  to  whom  he 
had  once  or  twice  brought  messages,  took  off 
his  hat.  The  old  gentleman  let  go  his  door- 
key  to  return  the  salute  with  a  slight  wave  of 
the  hand,  and  Gerald  looked  at  him  again,  say- 
ing to  himself:  "You've  gone  far,  my  friend, 
but  not  far  enough.  I  will  go  further  than 
that."  He  went  on  his  way,  planning  his 
future  as  usual,  only  that  now,  to  his  bewilder- 
ment, Sophie  Ethridge  was  constantly  appear- 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  295 

ing  in  it;  and  at  last  found  himself  at 
Marshall's  house  in  Gordon  Square. 

He  was  told  that  Marshall  was  out,  but  being 
anxious  to  see  him,  and  being  of  course  a  well- 
known  visitor  at  the  house,  he  was  allowed  to 
go  upstairs  and  wait.  He  entered  a  room  on 
the  first  floor — for  some  curious  reason  Mar- 
shall did  not  live  in  chambers,  but  had  a  whole 
house  to  himself,  and  used  all  the  rooms  in  it 
very  much  as  if  he  were  a  man  with  a  wife  and 
family — without  any  other  notice  than  simply 
turning  the  handle  of  the  door.  He  was  sur- 
prised, and  not  a  little  startled,  to  see  a  man 
jump  up  from  a  table  at  which  he  had  been 
sitting  and  begin  to  retreat  towards  an  inner 
room.  The  man,  who  was  clean  shaven,  and 
dressed  in  a  rough  grey  cloth  suit,  was  un- 
known to  him  at  first ;  but  in  the  doorway  of 
the  inner  room  he  stopped  for  a  second,  facing 
Gerald,  and  the  vague  candle  light  fell  full  on 
two  flashing  black  eyes.  The  man  was  Mar- 
shall. 

A  wave  of  terror  and  fury  and  despair  swept 
across  Gerald's  mind.  He  had  no  time  to 
think  of  details,  but  he  was  convinced,  hur- 
riedly but  completely,  that  the  worst  of 
disasters  had  overtaken  him.  He  shut  the 
door  behind  him  with  a  bang,  and  sprang 
forward  towards  Marshall,  who,  perceiving  that 


296  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

he  was  recognised  and  that  escape  was  impos- 
sible, came  forward  a  few  steps  and  confronted 
him.  The  lad  stared  for  half-a-dozen  moments 
with  quick-coming  breath  and  flashing  eyes, 
seeming  to  be  measuring  his  own  strength 
against  Marshall's  in  case  it  came  to  an  open 
fight.  Perhaps  Marshall  had  been  doing  the 
same,  and  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  the 
fight  was  too  equal  to  be  altogether  desirable, 
for  a  conciliatory  smile  suddenly  appeared  on 
his  face,  and  in  a  very  low  but  amiable  voice, 
he  said: — 

'The  game  is  up,  my  dear  boy,  and  I  am 
off.  I  have  just  sent  a  note  round  to  your 
place  advising  you  to  leave,  too." 

"I  have  got  nothing  to  escape  from,"  said 
Gerald,  trembling;  "and  I  should  have  thought 
that  you  would  have  done  much  better  to 
stop  and  brazen  it  out ;  but  that  is  your  own 
affair.  Before  you  go,  however  I  want  my 
money." 

"Your  money  is  in  my  bank  all  right,  and  in 
my  note  to  you  this  evening  I  have  sent  you  a 
cheque  for  it,  so  that  you  will  be  able  to  draw 
it  out  to-morrow." 

For  an  instant  Gerald  had  almost  believed 
this  assertion,  so  coolly  and  decisively  was  it 
made;  but  a  glance  at  Marshall's  altered  face, 
a  sudden  recollection  of  the  man's  eagerness  to 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  297 

get  hold  of  this  money,  brought  him  back  to 
reason. 

"I  have  not  got  the  note  or  the  cheque,"  he 
said.  "I  went  to  Great  Ormond  Street  before 
I  came  here,  and  there  was  nothing  for  me." 

"I  sent  it  by  post  this  afternoon,"  said  Mar- 
shall, "and  you  would  not  get  it  till  this  even- 
ing." But  even  as  he  spoke  he  felt  that  the 
boy  did  not  believe  a  word  of  what  he  was 
saying,  and  that  this  pretence  would  not  serve 
him  for  much  longer. 

"Very  likely,"  said  Gerald;  "but  I  do  not 
mean  to  lose  sight  of  you  till  I  have  got  it." 

"I  will  cancel  the  cheque  I  sent  you  and 
write  you  another  now, ' '  said  Marshall. 

"You  can  if  you  like,"  was  the  cool  reply, 
"but  you  will  not  go  till  it  is  cashed." 

"It  could  not  be  cashed  to-night." 

"Then  you  will  have  to  wait  till  to-morrow 
morning." 

"I  can't!' 

"You  must!" 

"Must  I,  you  little  devil?" 

For  the  last  half  minute  the  two  men  had 
both  been  preparing  for  a  contest.  Marshall 
pulled  a  revolver  out  of  his  pocket,  but  Gerald 
had  calculated,  and  calculated  rightly,  that  he 
would  not  choose  to  shoot,  and  so  bring  the 
household  into  the  room.  The  fellow  had  his 


298  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

finger  on  the  trigger  for  a  second,  but  suddenly 
recollecting  himself,  he  made  a  rush  at  the  boy 
and  struck  at  him  with  the  butt-end  of  the 
weapon.  Gerald  was  as  little  anxious  as  Mar- 
shall to  bring  the  servants  on  to  the  scene. 
He  merely  wanted  his  own  money,  and  beyond 
that  was  rather  desirous  than  otherwise  that 
Marshall  should  escape  from  the  country. 
Therefore  he  did  not  call  for  help,  but  trusting 
to  his  youth  and  agility,  first  dodged  his 
opponent,  and  then,  tackling  him,  tried  to  hold 
him.  The  elder  man,  however,  was  not  only 
by  far  the  stronger,  but  he  had  a  weapon.  As 
the  boy  tried  to  seize  him  he  held  him  easily 
at  arms-length  with  his  left  hand,  and  with  his 
right  struck  at  him  with  the  butt-end  of  the 
revolver.  The  first  blow  fell  painfully  enough 
but  harmlessly  on  the  lad's  shoulder.  As 
Gerald  flung  his  head  backwards  and  on  one 
side  to  avoid  the  second  blow,  the  heavy 
jagged  handle  of  the  revolver  came  down  with 
frightful  force  on  his  throat,  cutting  open  some 
veins,  and  inflicting  a  horrible  bruise.  He  fell 
back  fainting  from  the  pain  of  the  blow,  and 
Marshall,  having  stood  over  him  for  a  moment 
to  make  sure  that  he  was  not  likely  to  recover 
immediately,  took  up  his  hat,  blew  out  the 
candles  on  the  tables,  stuffed  some  papers  into 
his  pocket,  and  then  went  to  the  head  of  the 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  299 

stairs.  Here  he  listened  for  a  short  time  to 
make  sure  that  there  was  no  one  moving  about 
in  the  hall  or  dining-room,  then  creeping 
downstairs  he  opened  the  street  door,  shut  it 
noiselessly  with  the  help  of  his  latch-key, 
walked  up  to  Euston,  and  got  into  an  omnibus 
going  to  Waterloo  Station.  Here  he  took  a 
ticket  for  Winchester,  and  having  arrived  there 
shortly  before  ten  o'clock,  chartered  a  dog-cart 
and  drove  over  to  Southampton,  where  he  got 
safely  on  board  the  boat  for  St.  Malo. 


CHAPTER    XXXII 

"Now,  Sister.1  You  said  I  might  have  this 
iron  thing  off  this  very  evening. ' ' 

"Robin!  I  told  you  that  if  you  used  one 
single  one  of  those  words  again,  I  would  put 
the  sheet  over  your  face  and  keep  it  there  for 
an  hour. ' ' 

The  young  gentleman  who  had  made  this 
remark  had  prefixed  to  the  substantives 
"thing"  and  "evening"  a  string  of  adjectives, 
of  which  a  Billingsgate  fishmonger  might  be 
proud. 

"Oh,  Sister!  I  forgot;  forgive  me  just  this 
once.  It's  my  birthday  to-morrow,  so  you 
might  let  me  off  " 

"You  are  the  very  naughtiest  boy  I  ever  had 
here.  How  old  will  you  be  to-morrow?" 

"Six,  Sister.  I  can  swear  pretty  tidy  for 
that,  can't  I?  Old  Hicks  taught  me,  him  as 
keeps  the  parrot  shop  near  us.  He  taught  me 
and  the  parrots,  too.  You  should  have  just 
heard  us  all  swear  together,  him  and  me  and 
the  parrots.  You  wouldn't  have  thought  much 
of  me  after  that. ' ' 

300 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  301 

"It  isn't  at  all  clever  to  swear,  Robin;  any- 
body can  do  it.  I  could  do  it;  nurse  could  do 
it.  It  is  only  a  silly  and  horrid  kind  of  talk. 
It  isn't  at  all  funny." 

"Why  do  those  doctors  laugh,  then,  every 
morning  when  they  hurt  me  and  I  swear?" 

The  Sister  was  spared  from  answering  this 
embarrassing  question  by  a  nurse  who  brought 
tea  to  the  small  patient.  She  got  up  and 
passed  down  the  ward  towards  a  bed  which 
was  screened  off  from  the  rest.  A  nurse  came 
out  from  behind  the  screens  as  she  approached 
them  saying:  "We  had  better  ask  Mr.  Thorn- 
ton to  come  in.  The  throat  is  swelling  again 
on  the  left  side,  and  I  don't  like  the  looks  of  it 
at  all." 

"Send  for  him,  then,"  said  the  Sister,  and 
went  herself  behind  the  screens. 

A  curious  stillness  seemed  to  rest  here,  as  if 
something  more  than  cloth  and  cardboard 
screens  were  separating  this  bed  from  the  rest 
of  the  ward.  A  murmur  of  conversation,  a 
rustle  of  nurses'  dresses  and  dragging  of 
patients'  feet  as  they  moved  about  with  tea- 
trays,  the  laughter  of  three  or  four  convales- 
cents who  were  grouped  round  the  fire,  the 
shrill  voices  of  Robin  and  a  certain  young  per- 
son called  Tom-Tit,  with  whom  he  had  picked 
a  quarrel,  seemed  to  come  here,  as  it  were, 


302  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

from  a  distance.  On  the  bed  lay  a  young  man 
with  his  eyes  closed  and  a  face  as  white  as  the 
bandages  which  encircled  his  throat,  while  by 
the  side  of  the  bed  sat  another  man,  with  his 
hands  before  him,  and  a  certain  severe  martial 
air  which  left  little  doubt  as  to  his  profession. 

"I  think  you  may  go  away,  policeman,  if  you 
want  to  smoke  or  anything  of  the  kind,"  said 
the  Sister.  "One  of  the  doctors  is  just  coming 
and  I  shall  be  staying  here  for  some  time." 

"Well,  thank  you,  miss.  I  should  like  a 
pipe.  It's  rather  dull  work  here." 

A  nurse  came  in  and  whispered  something. 

"I  am  afraid  you  won't  be  able  to  go  after 
all,"  said  the  Sister.  "Some  friends  of  the 
patient  have  just  come,  and  have  been  given 
leave  to  see  him.  You  would  not  be  allowed 
to  leave  them  with  him,  I  suppose?" 

"No,  miss,  my  orders  are  very  strict  about 
that." 

"What's  it  all  about?"  asked  the  recently- 
arrived  nurse  in  a  whisper. 

"A  financial  swindle,  miss.  Our  chaps  at 
Scotland  Yard  have  had  their  eye  on  the  gang 
for  a  long  time  past,  but  they  haven't  been 
able  to  do  anything  till  to-day.  Unluckily  the 
worst  of  them,  a  fellow  called  Marshall,  had 
reckoned  his  time  pretty  accurately  and 
escaped  last  night.  We  can't  quite  make  out 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  303 

whether  this  youngster  has  tried  to  commit 
suicide,  or  has  been  having  a  row  with  some 
one.  We  were  told  last  night  that  this  might 
have  been  a  queer  bungling  attempt  to  cut  his 
own  throat.  To-day  we  are  told  it  looks  more 
like  a  fight.  Anyhow,  he's  under  arrest,  and 
half-a-dozen  others  with  him." 

"What  rubbish!  Of  course  it  couldn't  have 
been  attempted  suicide,"  said  the  Sister. 
"Well,  here's  Mr.  Thornton,  and  afterwards,  I 
suppose,  his  friends  will  be  allowed  to  come 
in." 

At  these  last  words,  added  in  a  louder  voice, 
Gerald  Franklin  slowly  opened  his  eyes  and 
looked  round.  He  had  been  conscious  once  or 
twice  before,  and  knew  where  he  was,  but  a 
new  anxiety  seemed  to  have  taken  hold  of  him 
this  time.  After  thinking  for  a  little  he  signed 
that  he  wanted  to  ask  something,  and,  being 
given  the  slate  which  was  by  his  bedside,  wrote 
on  it:  "Shall  I  get  well?"  As  he  turned  the 
slate  towards  the  Sister,  his  eyes  looking 
across  her  shoulder  suddenly  clouded  with  a 
new  look  of  pain.  Thornton,  the  young 
surgeon,  had  just  come  in,  and  with  him  was 
Dr.  Hare,  who  came  up  to  him  and  took  his 
hand  with  tears  in  his  own  eyes.  One  of  those 
trivial  memories  which  come  to  us  at  such 
moments  passed  into  Gerald's  mind  now; — the 


304  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

memory  of  the  afternoon  in  his  aunt's  house, 
when  Dr.  Hare  had  said  good-bye  and  wished 
him  luck,  with  kindly  hope  for  the  future  and 
light-hearted  wonder  as  to  when  and  where 
they  would  meet  again.  This  dark  November 
afternoon,  the  crowded  hospital  ward  with 
nurses  standing  round  and  a  policeman  sitting 
by  the  bedside,  was  certainly  not  the  picture 
which  either  of  them  had  in  their  mind  when 
the  words  were  spoken. 

In  answer  to  the  question  on  the  slate 
Thornton  muttered  a  brief  technical  explana- 
tion to  Dr.  Hare,  who,  still  holding  Gerald's 
hand,  answered  gently : 

"We  cannot  be  quite  sure,  my  poor  lad. 
Mr.  Thornton  hopes  that  he  will  be  able  to  do 
something  now  to  help  you,  but  he  dare  not 
say  that  you  are  quite  certain  to  recover.  You 
would  like  to  see  }rour  aunt  and  sister,  would 
you?  They  are  downstairs,  and  Mr.  Thornton 
will  let  them  come  in  for  a  few  minutes  first,  if 
you  like.  .  .  .  No  one  can  see  you,  you 
know,"  he  went  on,  noticing  how  Gerald 
looked  round  him  with  shrinking  fear.  "No 
one  can  hear  or  see  you  except  this  officer,  and 
I  am  sure  he  will  be  good-natured  and  wait 
outside  for  a  bit,  or  at  any  rate" — as  the 
policeman  shook  his  head — "will  keep  out  of 
hearing." 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  305 

"We  would  have  put  him  in  a  private 
ward,"  said  the  Sister,  beginning  to  grow  a 
little  pitiful  in  spite  of  the  stories  with  which 
the  evening  papers  had  been  filled,  "only 
every  place  is  so  full.  The  whole  hospital  is  in- 
deed so  full  that  we  are  being  obliged  to  bring 
children  into  these  wards,  as  you  see.  Here 
are  the  two  visitors.  It  must  only  be  for  five 
minutes.  Please  explain  that  to  them." 

Unable  to  turn  his  head  away,  Gerald  shut 
his  eyes  as  Miss  Bertram  and  Monica  came  in. 
The  woman  and  girl  were  both  speechless,  and 
could  say  and  do  nothing  but  stand  by  the  bed- 
side touching  the  boy's  hand  and  asking  him  to 
show  by  some  means  if  he  knew  them.  They 
were  in  utter  ignorance,  like  every  one  else,  as 
to  what  had  happened  to  him,  except  that  he 
had  been  found  wounded  in  Marshall's  room. 
No  one  could  understand  how  this  had 
occurred,  since  the  story  of  the  servants  of  the 
house  was  that  Marshall  had  left  it  at  three 
o'clock  and  had  never  returned.  Gerald 
Franklin,  they  said,  had  come  in  much  later, 
and  had  been  absolutely  alone  in  the  first-floor 
room  throughout  the  time  of  his  stay  there. 
Nobody  had  come  in  or  out  of  the  house,  and 
there  had  been  no  sound  of  a  quarrel  or  the 
slightest  sign  of  anything  being  wrong,  until  a 
housemaid  came  into  the  room  to  bring  some 


306  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

coal,  and  had  found  the  young  man  uncon- 
scious on  the  floor.  Every  bit  of  circumstantial 
evidence  pointed  to  a  discovery  by  Gerald  of 
Marshall's  flight  and  the  collapse  of  the  busi- 
ness, and  a  subsequent  attempt  at  suicide  on 
his  part ; — everything,  that  is  to  say,  except  the 
nature  of  the  wound,  which  argued  forcibly, 
though  not  conclusively,  against  it.  Gerald 
would  write  nothing,  being  of  course  ignorant 
as  to  how  far  the  collapse  had  gone  and 
whether  he  would  be  facilitating  further 
exposure  by  a  confession.  As  a  result  of  this, 
Miss  Bertram  and  Monica  could  hardly  avoid 
sharing  the  belief  that  he  had  tried  to  kill  him- 
self. 

The  two  women  stood  almost  in  silence,  only 
murmuring  now  and  then  some  word  of  affec- 
tion, while  the  moments  went  by.  The  prom- 
ised five  minutes  had  elapsed  and  the  Sister 
came  up  to  Miss  Bertram  and  put  a  hand  on 
her  shoulder,  saying  gently  but  decisively: 
"You  must  come  away  now,  I  am  afraid.  The 
doctor  has  something  to  do." 

Hearing  the  words,  a  slight  tremor  passed 
across  Gerald's  face,  and  for  the  first  time  he 
opened  his  eyes. 

"I  must  ask  him  one  question,"  said  Monica, 
pushing  past  Miss  Bertram ;  and  flinging  her- 
self on  her  knees  by  the  bedside,  she  bent  her 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  307 

face,  resolute  and  almost  as  white  as  Gerald's 
own,  over  her  brother  and  asked  in  a  low 
whisper:  "Did  you  do  it  yourself?  Oh, 
Gerald,  do  tell  me!" 

A  very  faint  tinge  of  colour  came  into  her 
brother's  face.  He  looked  as  if  he  were  trying 
to  speak,  so  that  the  Sister  leant  forward 
quickly,  giving  him  the  slate  and  saying:  "You 
must  not  try  to  say  anything."  The  boy  took 
the  pencil  and  wrote  "No";  then  he  held  it 
and  lay  looking  alternately  at  Monica  and  Miss 
Bertram.  There  was  a  slight  bewildered 
expression  on  his  face  as  if  he  were  trying  to 
remember  something  else  which  he  wanted  to 
say  and  could  not  for  the  moment  think  of  it. 
Inside  the  screen  every  one  stood  motionless, 
almost  holding  their  breath.  From  outside 
came  the  murmur  of  voices  in  the  ward,  a 
boy's  laugh,  the  soft  voice  of  a  nurse  who  was 
standing  over  the  fire  reading  something  out  of 
a  newspaper  to  two  or  three  men.  Even 
sounds  from  outside  came  faintly  to  their  ears, 
a  very  slight  roll  of  passing  traffic  and  the 
shrill  voices  of  the  newspaper  boys  running 
down  Gower  Street  with  special  editions.  One 
of  the  chief  items  of  news  in  each  paper  was 
the  last  bulletin  about  the  patient  by  whose 
bedside  they  were  standing,  with  the  last 
guesses  as  to  whether  and  when  he  would  be 


308  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

able  to  appear  before  the  magistrates  in  Bow 
Street,  or  whether  his  trial  would  take  place 
before  another  judge,  and  in  a  court  beyond 
mortal  sight. 

A  flash  of  memory  came  back  to  the  young 
face  on  the  bed,  and  some  words  were  traced 
very  slowly  and  with  light  uncertain  strokes  on 
the  slate.  The  Sister  looked  away  while  the 
two  other  women  bent  over  the  wandering 
hand  with  wet  eyes.  Behind  them,  also  read- 
ing, stood  the  policeman  with  a  murmured 
word  of  apology:  "It  is  my  duty  to  see  it, 
ma'am." 

"Even  if  you  think  what  a  merciful  ending, 
please  do  not  say  so. ' ' 

When  the  sentence  was  finished  the  pencil 
still  hovered  for  a  moment,  and  was  then  lifted 
once  more  to  underline  the  word  "please"; 
then  it  was  put  down. 

Miss  Bertram  stared  at  the  words  with  such 
evident  uncomprehension  on  her  face  that 
Gerald  saw  it  and  moved  the  slate  impatiently. 

"  He  means, "  said  Monica  in  a  stifled  voice, 
"that  if  he  dies  he  does  not  want  us  to  say  that 
it  is  a  good  thing.  Of  course  we  shan't,  Gerald 
darling;  but  you  are  not  going  to  die.  You 
will  get  well  and  come  and  live  with  us  and  we 
shall  all  be  happy  again  together.  I  know 
quite  well  ,  ,  ," 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  309 

"I  cannot  possibly  allow  another  moment," 
said  the  Sister.  "This  will  not  do  at  all.  Mr. 
Thornton  is  waiting  and  you  must  come  at 
once,  please. " 

The  two  doctors  came  in  as  she  spoke,  and 
with  a  hurried  farewell  Miss  Bertram  and 
Monica  left  the  ward.  As  they  passed  out  of 
the  hospital  into  Gower  Street  and  Euston 
Road  the  newspaper  boys  were  crying  out  the 
story  of  the  fall  of  the  Freehold,  and  Marshall's 
flight.  "Attempted  suicide  of  a  clerk," 
screamed  one  of  them  running  past  Miss  Ber- 
tram, while  further  on  a  knot  of  men  whom  the 
two  women  passed  were  talking  about  the 
crash,  and  Monica  heard  her  brother's  name 
mingled  with  curses  and  talk  of  penal  servi- 
tude. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

Muirhead  stood  on  the  bleak  Manchester 
race-course  on  the  Saturday  which  was  the 
last  racing  day  of  the  year,  and  on  his  face  was 
the  haggard,  horrible  stare  of  a  gambler  who  is 
going  to  play  his  last  stake  and  knows  before- 
hand what  will  be  the  result.  It  was  his  last 
in  a  very  desperate  sense  of  the  word,  for,  like 
a  hundred  other  weak  passionate  men,  he  had 
become  demoralized  by  his  losses  to  the  point 
of  saying,  "I  must  and  will  have  these  back;" 
and  from  saying,  "I  must  have  this  money 
back,"  to  saying,  "I  must  have  the  capital  to 
get  this  back,"  there  is  of  course  no  step  at  all; 
while  from  saying  this  latter  to  procuring  the 
capital,  first  by  questionable  means,  and  then 
by  means  about  which  there  is  no  question  at 
all,  is  only  a  moderate  step.  Muirhead  had 
raised  money  for  several  days  on  various 
securities  with  which  he  had  at  least  a  certain 
right  to  deal.  On  Friday  and  to-day  he  had 
raised  more  money,  and  no  inconsiderable  sum 
either,  on  securities  which  he  had  no  right  to 
touch.  Half  the  money  which  he  had  brought 
310 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  3 1 1 

to  Manchester  with  him  that  morning  was 
already  gone;  the  other  half  was  at  that 
moment  invested  on  West  End  for  the  Man- 
chester November  Handicap. 

A  cold  soaking  rain  was  driving  down  on 
to  the  course  in  heavy,  hopeless  lines.  An 
east  wind  blew  clouds  of  smoke  and  grime 
from  the  Ship  Canal  Works,  while  all  over  the 
stands  and  along  the  railings  stood  wet  and 
shivering  men  and  women,  discussing  their 
bets  in  listless  voices,  and  for  the  most  part  too 
miserable  to  care  whether  their  favourites  lost 
or  won.  A  few  men,  warmed  up  by  whisky, 
or  champagne,  or  hope,  stamped  about  the 
rings  with  their  collars  up  and  their  hands  in 
their  pockets,  whistling  and  chaffing  the  book- 
makers, but  the  greater  part  of  the  spectators 
rushed  back  to  cover  directly  they  had  made 
their  bets. 

Parmesan,  carrying  a  ten-pound  penalty  for 
his  Derby  Cup  victory,  was  running  in  the 
race,  and  Muirhead  had  hesitated  for  some 
time  as  to  whether  he  should  or  not  back  him 
again.  Finally  he  had  decided  to  back  him  for 
a  place,  but  had  changed  his  mind  at  the  last 
moment,  and  backed  Elf  for  a  place  instead. 
He  said  to  himself  that  one  horse  had  already 
won  him  money,  and  that  it  was  the  other's 
turn  now.  The  race  was  very  late  in  starting. 


312  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

There  were  three  break -aways  and  Muirhead 
was  in  a  fretting  fever  when  the  flag  finally 
fell.  West  Wind  went  to  the  front  with  a 
great  rush;  his  little  jockey,  being  unable  to 
hold  him,  let  him  go,  according  to  wise  orders, 
and  the  horse  came  round  the  bend  with  a  ten- 
lengths  lead.  Muirhead,  who  knew  enough 
about  racing  by  this  time  to  guess  that  "cut- 
ting down"  tactics  were  not  likely  to  pay  over 
mile  and  three-quarters,  watched  the  animal 
with  despair  and  fury,  yet  with  a  growing  spark 
of  hope  as  the  horse  came  on  up  the  straight 
without  appearing  to  falter.  Too  soon,  how- 
ever, he  began  to  see  the  field  closing  up  like  a 
telescope.  Parmesan,  Amazon  and  half-a- 
dozen  other  horses  rushed  up  to  West  Wind, 
and  already  the  little  jockey  had  his  whip  up 
and  was  lurching  about  in  a  desperate  attempt 
to  make  his  tiring  horse  keep  up  the  pace. 
Long  before  the  distance  he  had  dropped  back 
hopelessly  beaten.  Amazon  rushed  to  the 
front,  followed  by  Kodak,  Elf,  and  Parmesan. 
With  passionate  exclamations  of  anger,  Muir- 
head saw  the  four  go  past  him  with  scarcely  a 
length  separating  them  all.  At  least,  how- 
ever, he  would  not  lose  much  money  over  the 
race  if  Elf  were  placed,  and  he  heaved  a  sigh 
of  relief  when  the  horses  swept  past  the  judges' 
box,  and  he  heard  among  the  general  uproar 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  313 

cries  that  Elf  had  won.  But  number  seven — 
Kodak's  number — went  up  first,  then  in  quick 
succession  Amazon's  number  was  put  into  the 
second  place  and  Parmesan's  number  into  the 
third  place.  Elf  was  fourth,  and  Muirhead  had 
the  not  uncommon  gratification  of  reflecting 
that  his  first  judgment  had  been  correct,  and 
that  if  he  had  followed  it  and  backed  Parmesan 
for  a  place,  he  would  not  only  not  have  lost 
money  on  the  race  but,  the  horse  being  at  much 
longer  odds,  might  even  have  won  something. 
When  fate  begins  to  inflict  such  reverses  of 
fortune,  she  piles  them  up  to  an  extent  which 
her  victim  mostly  finds  to  be  seriously  annoy- 
ing. 

After  the  decision  of  the  November  Handi- 
cap, Muirhead  had  exactly  £2,  los.  left  in  his 
pocket; — it  would  hardly  be  correct  to  say  in 
his  possession,  since  the  money  could  not  be 
said  in  any  possible  sense  to  belong  to  him  at 
all.  Seven  and  sixpence  of  this  he  spent  on  a 
half-bottle  of  champagne,  keeping  half  a  crown 
for  his  cab  to  the  station,  and  put  the  rest  on 
an  outsider  for  the  Final  Plate.  The  outsider, 
ridden  by  a  gentleman-jockey,  took  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  race,  and  maintained  to  its 
finish  the  conspicuous  but  disappointing  posi- 
tion known  as  "a  bad  last,"  so  that  a  little  boy 
was  moved  to  put  his  head  over  the  railings 


3 14  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

• 

and  call  out  to  the  aforesaid  gentleman-jockey, 
"Hi,  Captain!  What  detained  you?"  and 
Muirhead  had  left  the  course  before  the  race 
could  strictly  be  said  to  be  finished. 

The  man's  mind  was  a  complete  blank.  He 
refused  to  think  of  the  past,  present,  or  future, 
and  took  his  seat  in  a  cab  with  three  other 
men  without  any  other  feeling  or  thought 
than  annoyance  at  the  rain.  Once,  for  a 
second,  when  he  put  his  hand  on  a  certain 
empty  pocket-book  in  his  breast-pocket,  a  sud- 
den momentary  realisation  of  what  had  hap- 
pened came  to  him,  and  he  flung  up  his  hands 
in  a  gesture  of  horror  and  despair;  but  a  stare 
of  astonishment  from  his  opposite  neighbour 
brought  back  his  senses,  or  to  speak  more 
accurately,  distracted  them  again,  and  he 
looked  round  him  in  eager  search  for  some- 
thing else  to  think  about.  The  cab  was  driving 
past  a  stationer's  shop  at  the  time,  and  his  eye 
caught  the  contents  board  of  a  Manchester 
evening  paper:  "Exposure  of  the  Freehold 
Building  Society,"  "Escape  of  the  Secretary," 
"Arrest  of  the  Managers,"  "Attempted  suicide 
of  a  clerk." 

If  Muirhead  had  recently  had  much  time  or 
attention  to  devote  to  the  affairs  of  the  Society 
of  which  he  was  the  manager  in  Staffordshire, 
this  news  would  not  have  come  to  him  with 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  315 

much  of  a  shock.  Half  a  score  of  letters  and 
telegrams  had  arrived  even  during  the  last 
forty-eight  hours,  which  would  have  been 
enough  to  show  an  ordinarily  wakeful  business 
man  that  a  crisis  was  at  hand.  But  Muirhead 
had  not  been  paying  the  slightest  attention  to 
any  of  the  affairs  of  the  Society.  He  had 
tossed  this  document  to  one  clerk,  that  to 
another,  telling  them  to  enter  the  figures  in 
their  proper  register,  or  file  the  paper  on  its 
proper  file,  and  that  was  all. 

The  news  on  this  contents  bill  beat  its  way 
through  the  cloud  which  hung  over  his  brain 
like  a  torpedo  boat  through  a  heavy  sea,  and 
crashed  on  to  his  intelligence.  As  the  cab 
drove  up  to  the  London  Road  Station,  he 
jumped  out,  and  tossing  his  share  of  the  fare 
to  the  driver,  rushed  to  the  bookstall  and 
snatched  up  the  first  two  papers  which  came  to 
his  hand.  Half  a  page  of  the  Staffordshire 
Sentinel  was  devoted  to  the  news.  Every- 
where telegrams  in  big  letters  announcing 
some  additional  horror  met  his  eye.  "Mar- 
shall's escape,  a  warrant  out  for  his  arrest,  and 
all  the  exits  from  the  country  being  carefully 
watched."  "Gerald  Franklin  found  in  Mar- 
shall's house  with  his  throat  cut,  and  taken  to 
the  hospital  and  not  expected  to  live. "  "All 
the  books  of  the  Society  in  charge  of  the 


316  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

police."  "Additional  arrests  being  announced 
every  hour,  and  numerous  others  expected." 
Merciful  heavens !  what  if  a  warrant  were  out 
for  his  own  arrest,  just  at  this  moment  when 
it  was  imperatively  necessary  that  he  should  be 
at  liberty,  in  order  to  arrange  a  certain  little 
matter  with  a  Birmingham  money-lender;  a 
little  matter,  the  discovery  of  which  might  also 
mean  arrest  and  some  far  more  serious  pro- 
ceedings? The  man  stood  on  the  platform 
completely  stupefied,  staring  at  the  paper  with 
suspended  breath  and  ashen  cheeks.  Presently 
he  saw  several  people  running,  and  seeing  that 
he  only  just  had  time  to  catch  the  5 : 30 
Express  to  Stoke,  he  ran  down  the  platform 
with  the  open  newspapers  in  his  hand,  and 
jumped  into  the  nearest  compartment  just  as 
the  train  was  moving  off.  Some  one  in  the 
compartment  who  knew  him  nudged  his  neigh- 
bour and  whispered  who  it  was,  so  that  Muir- 
head,  looking  up,  found  himself  confronted 
with  scowling  suspicious  faces,  the  first  of  the 
hundreds  which  afterwards  met  his  eyes  every- 
where he  turned.  Every  one  was  reading  the 
news  and  talking  about  it.  Passengers  for 
Stoke,  Rugby  and  London  were  there,  all  of 
whom  knew  some  one  who  would  be  buried 
under  these  tumbling  ruins.  "Is  this  true, 
sir?"  asked  an  old  man,  rapping  a  newspaper 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  317 

angrily  with  his  stick,  and  as  Muirhead 
shrugged  his  shoulders  he  went  on:  "I  sin- 
cerely trust,  sir,  that  all  the  scoundrels 
involved  in  this  business  will  shortly  be  in 
gaol,  where  they  deserve  to  be,"  and  added  a 
great  deal  more  to  the  same  effect  which  Muir- 
head did  not  hear.  He  was  thinking  of  noth- 
ing now  but  what  he  would  find  when  he  got 
home. 

As  the  train  ran  up  to  Stoke  platform  Muir- 
head saw  two  police  officers  standing  there 
scanning  each  carriage  as  it  went  by,  and  with 
the  prescience  which  belongs  to  such  moments 
of  tragedy,  he  knew  at  once  why  they  were 
there.  He  got  out  and  stood  by  the  carriage 
door,  waiting  quietly,  swinging  his  race  glasses 
in  his  hand  and  watching  the  officers  as  they 
walked  rapidly  down  the  train.  He  knew  one 
of  them  well  enough,  it  was  Burton,  the  head 
of  the  Newcastle  police.  The  two  men  came 
up  to  him  and  Burton  said  in  a  low  voice:  "I 
fear,  Mr.  Muirhead,  it  is  my  painful  duty  to 
arrest  you  on  charges  connected  with  the  Free- 
hold Building  Society.  Do  you  wish  to  see  the 
warrant?" 

"No,"  said  Muirhead  in  a  whisper.  "Let's 
be  off  as  quickly  as  possible.  You  don't  want 
to  handcuff  me,  I  suppose?" 

"No,  if  you  come  quite  quietly." 


3i 8  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

"Of  course  I  will  come  quietly,"  muttered 
the  wretched  man.  "Oh!  for  God's  sake,  do 
let  us  come  out  of  this.  Here's  a  crowd  col- 
lecting. Do  make  haste ! ' ' 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

Lady  Eastney  found  that  between  the  mak- 
ing of  schemes  for  departure  from  England 
with  her  lover,  and  carrying  them  out,  various 
trivial  accidents  could  fix  a  gulf.  She  meant 
to  see  Mr.  Seaton,  her  lawyer,  before  leaving, 
and  it  chanced  that  two  people  came  in  to 
lunch  next  day  and  afterwards  insisted  on  tak- 
ing her  into  the  Park.  They  were  of  the  tire- 
some class  of  persons  who,  having  made  up 
their  minds  to  do  what  they  consider  a  kind- 
ness, refuse  to  consider  the  possibility  of  the 
other  person  thinking  it  a  bore,  and  they 
laughed  away  all  Lady  Eastney's  protests 
about  having  work  to  do,  under  the  impression 
that  she  was  merely  protesting  against  their 
giving  themselves  trouble  for  her.  She  was 
weak  and  they  were  strong,  and  the  journey  to 
Paris  was  postponed  for  another  twenty-four 
hours.  Next  day  Seaton  himself  had  to  make 
a  journey  into  the  country  and  could  not  see 
her,  but  promised  to  come  to  Portman  Square 
on  the  following  morning.  In  the  morning, 
however,  he  telegraphed  from  a  remote  village 
319 


320  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

in  Norfolk,  saying  that  he  coiild  not  reach 
London  till  late  that  evening,  but  would  come 
round  to  Portman  Square  about  half -past  nine 
if  the  business  was  urgent.  The  Marchioness 
telegraphed  that  it  was,  and  shortly  before  ten 
o'clock  on  that  Friday  evening  Seaton  made 
his  appearance.  Lady  Eastney  received  him 
in  her  boudoir. 

"You  have  heard  nothing  more  about  the 
affairs  of  this  horrible  Society,  I  suppose?"  she 
asked. 

"I  have  been  out  of  town  for  the  last  thirty- 
six  hours, "  he  said,  "and  have  driven  here  direct 
from  Liverpool  Street  Station.  I  have  heard 
nothing  at  all  and  I  still  think,  as  I  told  you 
some  days  ago,  that  the  business  may  perhaps 
be  wound  up  without  any  serious  loss  or  great 
scandal;  but  of  course  I  know  nothing  what- 
ever about  it.  A  few  of  my  clients  have  some 
small  share  in  it,  but  only  a  very  small  one, 
and  none  of  them  appear  to  be  very  anxious 
about  its  affairs.  At  any  rate  they  have  not 
spoken  to  me  about  it. ' ' 

"There  will  be  a  scandal,  and  a  very  big  one, 
and  it  will  begin  within  a  few  hours,"  said  the 
Marchioness,  little  knowing  that  the  first  scene 
had  already  begun;  "but  I  must  not  detain 
you  here  about  that.  I  want  to  ask  you  a 
question  about  a  more  private  matter.  I  told 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  321 

you  some  days  ago,"  the  woman  walked  away 
to  the  mantel-piece  and  spoke  in  a  careless 
defiant  tone  which  was  contradicted  by  the 
scarlet  which  dyed  her  cheeks  and  neck,  "that 
I  was  going  to  leave  the  country  with  Mr. 
Alford.  My  mind  is  quite  made  up,"  she  went 
on  quickly,  seeing  that  the  lawyer  was  about 
to  speak,  "and  my  question  to  you  has  nothing 
to  do  with  that — otherwise  I  can  quite  under- 
stand that  you  would  not  care  to  say  anything 
which  might  assist  me.  I  want  you  simply  to 
tell  me  what  I  can  do  to  keep  Angela. " 

"Absolutely  nothing,"  said  the  lawyer 
unhesitatingly. 

"But  please  think.  I  am  going  to  take  her 
with  me  and  she  will  of  course  be  left  with  me 
until  divorce  proceedings  have  been  begun  and 
finished.  What  difference  can  they  make  to 
her?" 

"If  they  are  successful  you  would  have  no 
right  to  keep  the  child.  She  would  pass  to 
Lord  Eastney's  charge." 

"But  he  would  not  claim  her,"  said  the 
woman;  "he  cares  nothing  whatever  about 
her." 

"Whether  he  claimed  his  rights  or  not,  you 
would  cease  to  be  her  guardian  or  to  have  any 
legal  rights  at  all  in  connection  with  her. " 

"He  would  not  exercise  his  rights,  I  say!" 


322  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

"That  would  not  matter,  as  his  relatives 
would  come  forward  and  claim  the  child. 
Lady  Jane  Baxter  would  probably  be  asked  by 
the  others  to  do  so,  as  she  is  married." 

"What  right  would  they  have  to  interfere?" 
The  woman  turned  round  from  the  mantel- 
piece and  faced  Seaton.  The  colour  had  all 
died  out  of  her  face,  and  her  hands  were 
clasped  together  as  if  she  were  begging  the 
man  to  give  her  the  answers  which  she  desired. 

"Simply  this.  If  Lady  Angela  were  with 
you,  a  child  of  Lord  Eastney's  with  whom  you 
have  nothing  to  do  would  be  under  illegal 
guardianship.  They  would  wish  to  take  it 
away. " 

"They  could  not  do  it  without  his  help." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  the  lawyer,  more 
anxious  perhaps  to  avert  a  family  catastrophe 
than  to  explain  the  niceties  of  the  law,  "they 
certainly  could,  and  I  may  leave  you,  with 
your  knowledge  of  Lady  Jane  Baxter  and  her 
opinions,  to  judge  whether  they  would." 

"They  would  have  to  find  us  first." 

"My  dear  lady,  do  you  imagine  that  you  and 
Mr.  Alford  with  a  child  and  a  maid  could 
travel  about  in  Europe  or  in  any  other  part  of 
the  world  without  leaving  any  trace  of  where 
you  had  been?  I  do  not  natter  myself  that  I 
have  any  great  detective  skill,  but  I  think  that 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  323 

I  would  undertake  to  find  Lady  Angela  within 
a  week  without  the  slightest  difficulty.  A 
detective  would  probably  ask  for  forty-eight 
hours." 

"I  would  kill  him  when  he  did  find  her," 
said  the  woman. 

Looking  at  his  client  as  she  stood  there, 
trembling,  with  set  teeth  and  flashing  eyes, 
Seaton  muttered  to  himself :  "I  really  believe 
you  would."  Aloud,  however,  he  only 
remarked:  "Forgive  me  for  talking  dull  com- 
mon sense,  Lady  Eastney,  but  the  supply  of 
detectives  is  not  limited,  and  the  next  one  who 
came  would,  I  am  afraid,  come  for  you  as  well 
as  your  daughter." 

"I  would  kill  her  and  myself,"  said  the 
woman,  who  was  rapidly  working  herself  into 
a  fit  of  hysterics. 

"You  tell  me  that  your  mind  is  made  up  about 
leaving  the  country  with  Mr.  Alford, "  said 
Seaton;  "otherwise  I  would  suggest  that  it 
would  save  a  considerable  amount  of  anxiety 
and  trouble,  and  apparently  crime,  if  you 
remained  with  your  husband. ' ' 

"Yes,  yes,  but  my  mind  is  made  up,"  said 
the  Marchioness  distractedly,  and  in  the  tone 
of  a  person  whose  mind  had  been  made  up  and 
unmade  twenty  times  in  as  many  minutes  and 
was  about  to  take  a  twenty-first  decision. 


324  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

"Come  in!"  she  said  impatiently,  as  some 
one  knocked  at  the  door.  "Bertie!  What  on 
earth  are  you  doing  here?  I  thought  you  were 
at  the  Suffolks'.  Is  anything  the  matter?" 

"Yes,"  said  the  young  man  simply. 
"Hasn't  Mr.  Seaton  told  you?" 

"He  has  told  me  no  news  at  all." 

"Marshall  has  bolted.  That  young  clerk 
Franklin  has  been  found  in  his  room  stabbed, 
or  something.  The  whole  business  has 
begun. ' ' 

"Had  we  better  leave?  It  doesn't  matter 
talking  before  Mr.  Seaton ;  he  knows  every- 
thing. Had  we  better  leave  early  to-morrow 
morning?" 

"We  had  very  much  better  not  leave  at  all," 
said  the  young  man  doggedly.  He  folded  his 
arms  and  looked  down  on  the  floor  resolved 
not  to  meet  the  woman's  eyes.  "But  I  am 
perfectly  ready  to  do  what  you  like.  We  will 
go  if  you  like." 

"If  I  like!  If  I  like!  How  dare  you  come 
here  and  say  that  to  me?  What  do  you  mean 
by  coming  and  saying,  If  I  like?" 

But  for  Seaton's  presence  Alford  would  have 
been  obliged  to  protest  that  he  himself  was 
passionately  anxious  for  the  flight,  and  that  he 
had  only  meant  to  ask  whether  his  recent  news 
had  made  any  change  in  Lady  Eastney's  own 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  325 

desires.  This  would  have  involved  him  in 
another  long  love  scene  and  the  fixing  of  their 
departure  for  an  early  hour  next  morning. 
Therefore  he  was  unmitigatedly  grateful  for 
Seaton's  presence,  which  enabled  him  to 
answer  very  quietly:  "I  mean  what  I  say. 
You  know  my  wishes  and  I  only  asked  yours. ' ' 

There  was  a  long  silence.  Pride  and  pas- 
sion, rage  against  Alford,  who  had  put  her  to 
shame  before  Seaton,  and  love  for  the  young 
man,  love  for  her  child  and  the  horrible  con- 
viction that  what  Seaton  had  told  her  was 
inevitable,  raged  together  in  Lady  Eastney's 
heart  as  she  stood  there  with  her  hands  clasped 
in  front  of  her  and  her  eyes  flashing  fury  at 
Alford. 

"I  have  had  one  real  sincere  desire  all  this 
time,"  she  said  at  last  in  a  low  measured  voice, 
with  a  depth  of  anger  and  scorn  in  it  which 
made  Mr.  Alford  squirm,  and  a  ring  of  truth  in 
it  too  which  made  him  flush  wrathfully,  "and 
that  was  to  take  Angela  away  from  this  dis- 
grace and  trouble.  For  you,  personally,  I  care 
absolutely  nothing,  as  little  as  I  do  for  myself. 
You  came  here  imploring  me  to  go  abroad 
with  you,  protesting  that  you  loved  me  and 
would  help  me  to  escape  this  trouble,  and  I 
believed  you" — my  Lady  looked  steadily  at  the 
young  man,  daring  him  to  contradict  her  before 


326  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

Seaton — "I  believed  you  and  accepted  your 
offer,  as  I  would  have  accepted  the  offer  of  any 
man  whom  I  knew  well  and  who  promised  me 
a  method  of  escape  for  the  child.  Now  Mr. 
Seaton  tells  me  that  it  is  not  a  method  of 
escape  for  her,  that  she  would  be  taken  from 
me  and  brought  back,  therefore  I  have  no 
longer  the  slightest  intention  of  going  any- 
where with  you,  for  whom,  as  I  say,  I  care 
nothing  at  all.  Now  you  can  go  away.  No !  I 
am  not  going  to  hear  anything  that  you  have 
to  say.  Go  at  once!  Do  you  hear  me?  Go!" 
Feeling  very  small,  and  looking,  as  he  well 
might,  extremely  bewildered,  Mr.  Alford 
went ;  while  Seaton  sat  on,  stroking  his  beard 
and  saying  to  himself:  "The  woman  hardly 
knows  it  herself,  but  on  my  soul  and  conscience 
I  believe  that  when  she  told  the  chap  she  cared 
as  little  for  him  as  she  did  for  herself,  and  had 
planned  the  whole  of  this  torn-foolery  for  the 
sake  of  the  child,  she  was  telling  him  the 
exact  and  literal  truth, ' ' 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

Moltke's  welt-known  dictum,  that  there  are 
eighteen  ways  of  invading  England  and  only 
one  way  of  getting  out  again,  has  a  particular 
and  painful  significance  for  a  man  wanted  by 
the  police.  It  is  said  sometimes  that  London 
is  the  best  place  for  hiding  in,  but  London 
is  in  fact  a  very  small  place,  as  any  one  who 
has  ever  borrowed  five  pounds  from  his  neigh- 
bour and  tried  to  avoid  him  afterwards  will 
bear  witness.  To  go  to  a  small  country  town 
is  good  for  a  time,  but  these  places  will,  of 
course,  not  do  for  anything  but  a  temporary 
residence.  Besides,  life  here  after  London  is 
distinctly  dull,  and  a  man,  even  if  he  has 
forged  cheques,  embezzled  money  or  obtained 
it  under  other  false  pretences,  does  like  his 
amusements  as  usual.  Where  to  dine  the  night 
after  you  have  committed  a  murder,  and  what 
to  do  afterwards,  is  a  problem  which  must 
have  presented  itself  to  many  persons.  For 
myself  I  think  that,  if  I  were  on  good  terms 
with  the  waiters  at  my  club  and  could  feel 
tolerably  confident  that  they  would  not  give 
327 


328  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

me  up  to  the  police,  I  should  dine  there; — 
round  a  corner  of  course,  and  out  of  sight  of 
any  one  who  was  reading  an  evening  paper. 
One  would  be  certain  to  be  comfortable  there 
and  at  least  as  safe  as  anywhere  else. 

Marshall  did  not  dine  at  all  on  the  night  of 
his  flight, — which  was  a  mistake,  since  anxiety 
on  an  empty  stomach  is  a  very  severe  affliction. 
He  lay  in  his  berth  on  the  St.  Malo  steamer 
considering  his  present  and  future,  one,  as  he 
said  to  himself,  damnable,  the  other  spec- 
ulative. Having  breakfasted  in  the  buffet  at 
St.  Malo  Station,  which  is  the  one  exception 
to  the  rule  that  all  eating-places  in  France  are 
good,  he  took  a  train  for  the  South  and  sat  in 
it  shuddering  with  alarm  at  every  stoppage. 
The  fastest  method  of  progression  in  Brittany, 
as  every  one  knows,  is  the  bicycle;  next  to  that 
comes  walking,  and,  a  bad  third,  the  railway. 
For  my  own  part  the  trains  here  soothe  me.  I 
like  to  get  out  and  walk  by  the  engine-driver 
and  ask  him  whether  his  train  is  still,  in  the 
cautious  language  of  the  railway  notices,  "se 
dirigeant  vers  Rennes,"  and  to  feel  that  fora 
very  slight  consideration  he  would  go  some- 
where else.  But  this  mode  of  progression,  I 
am  aware,  drives  most  English  people  mad. 
Marshall,  for  instance,  was  fuming  in  his  car- 
riage, cursing  every  station  at  which  he 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  329 

stopped,  declaring  that  the  train  ought  to  be 
prosecuted  for  furious  loitering,  and  generally 
conducting  himself  as  one  of  his  countrymen 
does  who  is  getting  late  for  an  appointment  by 
means  of  a  slow  train.  As  the  appointment  in 
his  case  was  one  involving  escape  from  ten 
years  penal  servitude,  Marshall  had,  it  must  be 
allowed,  some  justification  for  his  annoyance. 

The  train  dragged  past  Rennes  and  Redon, 
and  into  the  pretty  valley  of  the  Loire,  arriv- 
ing at  last  at  Saint  Nazaire.  This  being  the 
Compagnie  Generale  Transatlantique's  point  of 
departure  for  South  America,  the  man  antici- 
pated, not  without  some  reason,  that  his  arrival 
here  would  be  looked  for,  and  he  jumped  out 
and  made  his  way  to  the  exit  with  a  face  of 
alarm  which  would  have  betrayed  him  ten 
times  over  to  a  detective  if  one  had  chanced  to 
be  present.  He  had  however  got  a  good  start 
of  the  police  arrangements,  and  was  able  to 
go  in  peace  to  the  comfortable  old  Hotel 
Bretagne,  where  he  booked  a  passage  under 
the  name  of  Taylor  on  the  next  steamer  for 
Rio  Janeiro. 

As  ill-luck  would  have  it,  he  had  three  days 
to  wait  here  before  the  steamer  sailed,  and  he 
began  to  speculate  seriously  as  to  the  advisa- 
bility of  spending  them  somewhere  outside 
Saint  Nazaire. .  His  travels  had  given  him  that 


330  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

real  knowledge  of  roughing  it,  which,  while  it 
makes  most  men  able  to  do  so,  and  fluent  in 
talking  about  its  charms,  makes  most  of  them 
also  extremely  careful  to  avoid  it  if  possible. 
Also  he  had  some  experience  of  Breton  vil- 
lages, where  you  dine  on  onion  soup  and  veal 
and  cheese,  and  are  compelled  to  get  up  early 
in  the  morning  because  the  landlady  wants  the 
sheets  to  lay  the  table  for  dejeuner;  and 
though  he  did  not  mean  to  risk  anything  he 
was  not  going  to  plunge  into  these  joys  with- 
out good  and  sufficient  cause. 

An  Englishman  who  sat  next  to  him  at  the 
table  d'hote  dinner  saved  him  the  trouble  of 
making  inquiries  about  such  places  in  the 
neighbourhood  by  making  them  himself,  and 
Marshall,  on  the  look-out  for  detectives, 
studied  this  person  furtively  and  closely.  He 
was  a  middle-aged  man,  with  brown  hair  and 
broad  flowing  whiskers  and  a  heavy  moustache. 
His  clothes,  which  consisted  of  a  Norfolk 
jacket,  knickerbockers  and  thick  woollen 
stockings,  were  considerably  too  big  for  him, 
and  his  gait,  which  was  rolling  and  rollicking, 
gave  you  the  idea  of  a  man  who  took  his 
brandy  and  soda  regularly  but  managed  as  a 
rule  to  walk  it  off  afterwards.  Marshall  eyed 
him  uncomfortably,  and  he  eyed  Marshall  with 
at  least  equal  discomfort.  At  last  the  late 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  331 

Secretary  of  the  Freehold  Building  Society 
looked  straight  into  his  companion's  eyes  and 
then  dropped  his  fork  with  a  crash  on  his  plate. 
In  those  features,  which  one  cannot  disguise 
except  with  more  pain  than  the  ordinary  per- 
son cares  to  inflict  on  himself,  Marshall  recog- 
nised something  which  made  him  look  for  a 
scar  just  above  the  man's  left  eyebrow,  and 
this  scar  he  found.  This  made  him  look  more 
closely  at  the  flowing  hair,  and  search  for  cer- 
tain signs  indicative  of  its  having  been  bought 
in  a  wig  shop,  and  these  signs  he  also  found. 
After  this  he  came  to  the  conclusion,  not  quite 
certainly  but  with  a  feeling  that  he  -would 
stake  a  -good  deal  of  his  money  on  it,  that  he 
was  sitting  next  to  Mr.  Luke  Robinson. 
Furthermore  he  concluded  from  certain  signs 
that  Mr.  Luke  Robinson  was  on  the  way  to 
recognise  him,  if  he  had  not  already  done  so. 
One  is  not  always  certain  of  recognising  any- 
body, since  marks  of  identification  may  be 
common  to  several  people,  or  may  sometimes 
be  in  a  passive  state.  The  man,  for  instance, 
who  came  to  the  Morgue  in  Paris  in  search  of 
his  father,  and  was  told,  on  describing  him, 
that  there  were  three  men  at  present  in  the 
Morgue  answering  to  that  description,  and  that 
he  must  give  some  other  means  of  identifica- 
tion; and  who  then  added,  in  a  moment  of 


332  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

brilliant  inspiration,  that  his  father  was  dumb ; 
was  obviously  doubtful  as  to  what  marks  of 
identification  really  meant.  Robinson  and 
Marshall,  who  both  knew  what  they  meant, 
had  forgotten  half  a  dozen  of  them  in  their  own 
cases.  After  confronting  one  another  for  half 
an  hour  neither  of  them  had  the  least  doubt 
about  who  the  other  was,  and  they  sat  dur- 
ing the  rest  of  dinner  merely  considering 
whether  it  would  be  good  policy  to  admit  the 
recognition.  Marshall  could  find  no  reason 
against  it  in  his  own  mind,  and  was,  besides, 
extremely  curious  to  find  out  why  Robinson 
had  fled  at  all;  therefore,  after  dinner,  he 
strolled  down  towards  the  docks  with  a  cigar, 
and  on  turning  round  perceived  that  Robinson 
was  coming  in  the  same  direction.  He  waited 
for  the  latter  to  join  him,  and  then  asked 
briefly  but  forcibly: — 

"What  the  devil  are  you  doing  here?" 

"What  are  you  doing?"  was  the  not  unnatural 
reply. 

"Waiting  for  the  Normannia"  said  Mar- 
shall; "that's  easy  to  guess;  and  I  suppose 
you're  coming  to  Rio  Janeiro,  too,  but  I  don't 
understand  why." 

"It's  a — a  very  healthy  country, "  said  Rob- 
inson, vaguely  and  dubiously. 

"Very,"  assented  Marshall. 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  333 

The  two  men  walked  on  in  silence  for  a  space, 
both  debating  whether  they  had  better  not  let 
matters  rest  where  they  were.  Marshall  made 
up  his  mind  first.  Like  the  boy  who  was  con- 
tinually being  asked  which  of  a  new  litter  of 
kittens  he  would  like  to  keep  and  which  to 
drown,  and  who,  on  being  shown  some  newly- 
arrived  twin-brothers,  pointed  unhesitatingly 
to  the  ugliest  and  said:  "I  should  drown  that 
one;"  Marshall  had  been  engaged  all  his  life 
in  deciding  difficult  questions,  and  could  there- 
fore do  it  faster  than  most  people.  So  he  said 
amiably: — 

"My  departure  from  London  was  rather 
hurried,  and  was  dictated  by  motives  of 
prudence  as  much  as  health.  In  fact,  the  police 
are  looking  for  me.  You  are  doubtless  aware, 
my  dear  Mr.  Robinson,  that  the  financial 
arrangements  of  this  Freehold  Society  were 
not  always  conducted  as  the  law  requires." 

"No,  I  believe  not." 

"The  Staffordshire  branch  —  a  most  admi- 
rably managed  branch  it  was — was,  I  suppose, 
no  exception ;  but  I  am  rather  surprised  that  you 
should  have  been  so  much  involved  in  its  affairs 
as  to  make  this — this  little  change  of  costume 
necessary;"  and  Marshall  looked  at  the  Wes- 
leyan  minister's  whiskers  and  knickerbockers 
and  bicycling  cap  with  an  engaging  smile. 


334  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

"I  had  a  good  deal  of  work  to  do  in  Stafford- 
shire," said  Robinson  evasively. 

"Certainly  you  had,"  replied  Marshall;  "and 
most  admirably  you  did  it.  Did  our  friends 
down  there  notice  anything  wrong?" 

"Well,  paitly  they  did,"  said  the  other 
surlily;  "and  partly  they  minded  their  own 
business. ' ' 

"My  dear  Mr.  Robinson,"  went  on  Marshall, 
rather  dashed  at  rinding  that  he  had  given  his 
own  confidences,  and  was  not  to  have  any  in 
return,  "I  can  understand  that  you  are 
slightly  annoyed  by  this  catastrophe,  but  I 
can't  understand  why  you  shouldn't  confide  in 
me.  To  be  frank,  it  decreases  the  chances  of 
safety  for  both  of  us  to  be  together  like  this, 
and  I  can't  imagine  why  the  devil  you  are  here 
at  all.  Forgive  me  for  swearing  in  your 
presence." 

"The  result  of  my  confidence  in  you  up  to 
the  present  date  has  not  been  very  fortunate." 

"We  are  going  to  be  travelling  companions 
for  some  weeks,"  said  Marshall  persuasively. 
"I  really  think  that  you  might  tell  me  why  you 
are  here.  Also  I  might  point  out  to  you  that  it 
is  but  a  matter  of  twenty-four  hours  my  find- 
ing out  all  about  it.  No  doubt  I  shall  occupy 
the  most  prominent  place  in  the  English  news- 
papers of  Monday,  which  will  arrive  here  on 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  335 

Tuesday ;  but  a  space  will  probably  be  found 
for  your  doings  as  well." 

"I  should  think  they  would  probably  offer  a 
reward  for  your  apprehension,  won't  they?" 
said  Robinson,  meditatively. 

"Very  likely,"  said  Marshall,  "but  if  any- 
body in  this  town  is  thinking  of  earning  that 
reward,  well,  faith!  I  could  put  my  finger  on  a 
town  where  there  is  going  to  be  trouble. ' ' 

"To  be  candid,  as  you  have  been,"  said  Rob- 
inson, "I  could  very  well  dispense  with  your 
company  on  this  voyage,  and  see  no  reason  at 
all  why,  if  you  persist  in  coming  with  me,  I 
shouldn't  telegraph  to  the  police  to  stop  you." 

"Why,  you  poor  fool,  for  the  simple  reason 
that  they  would  have  both  of  us." 

"A  man  cannot  be  arrested  without  a  war- 
rant and  without  cause,"  said  Robinson.  "No 
one  will  have  any  desire  to  arrest  me  for 
another  three  or  four  days  at  least." 

"I  will  show  you  another  reason  then,"  said 
Marshall,  springing  at  the  man  and  seizing 
him  by  the  throat. 

The  two  were  standing  on  the  edge  of  one  of 
the  docks,  and  Marshall's  intention  was  to 
choke  his  quondam  friend  first  and  throw  him 
into  the  water  afterwards.  Unfortunately, 
however,  Robinson  managed  to  emit  one  or 
two  gurgling  cries  for  help,  and  then  when  he 


336  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

finally  lost  his  footing  and  tumbled  over  the 
edge,  he  was  holding  Marshall  tightly  in  his 
arms.  The  two  men  fell  into  the  dock  with  a 
mighty  splash,  and  presently  a  dozen  small 
boys,  half-a-dozen  men  and  women,  and  finally 
two  policemen,  appeared  on  the  scene. 

The  two  combatants  were  dragged  out  and 
stood  on  the  edge  of  the  dock  for  a  moment 
dripping  and  swearing.  Marshall's  wig  was 
far  at  the  back  of  his  head,  Robinson's  over  his 
left  eye.  The  latter  had  also  lost  one  of  his 
whiskers,  while  the  other  had  moved  down  under 
his  chin.  The  crowd,  which  had  considerably 
increased  by  this  time,  stood  staring  at  the 
Englishmen  in  considerable  and  by  no  means 
respectful  astonishment,  and  the  two  policemen 
were  evidently  debating  as  to  the  propriety  of 
allowing  the  incident  to  terminate  here.  They 
were,  however,  saved  the  trouble  of  a  decision 
by  two  other  Englishmen  who  pushed  their 
way  through  the  spectators,  and  informed  the 
hesitating  French  policemen  that  they  were 
English  detectives,  with  warrants  for  the 
arrest  of  the  two  gentlemen  whose  appearance 
was  now  causing  so  much  surprise. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

Gerald  Franklin's  life  flickered  up  and  down 
for  forty-eight  hours;  then  he  began  to 
recover. 

"He  has  not  been  guilty  of  any  real  wrong, 
my  dear,"  said  Miss  Bertram  to  Monica;  "it 
was  my  poor  wicked  brother  who  devised  the 
whole  affair  arid  led  him  astray  and  kept  him 
at  this  dreadful  work.  I  do  not  suppose  he 
knew  himself  what  he  was  doing. " 

Monica  shook  her  head  miserably.  She 
knew  her  brother  better  than  that. 

"I  am  afraid  you  must  have  lost  money  in 
the  Society,"  said  Reggie  Nicholson,  who  had 
come  up  to  London  to  be  near  the  pair. 

"I  have  lost  nearly  everything,  my  dear 
boy,"  said  the  woman  quietly.  "I  tried  to  sell 
my  shares,  but  it  was  too  late.  I  suppose 
there  is  no  harm  in  saying  now  that  Lady 
Eastney  advised  me  to  sell  them  last  August, 
and  also  mercifully  advised  me  against  letting 
Monica's  money  be  put  into  the  Company.  I 
tried  to  sell  the  shares,  but  it  was  too  late,  and 
now  I  have  got  only  a  few  hundred  pounds  left  in 
337 


338  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

the  world.  I  fear  that  I  am  only  one  of  many 
such  sufferers.  Probably  there  are  hundreds 
worse  off  even  than  myself  as  a  result  of  this. 
I  shall  have  to  find  some  work  to  do,  but  it  will 
be  time  enough  to  talk  about  that  when 
Gerald  is  well." 

"You  will  do  nothing  of  the  sort,  Aunt 
Christina,"  said  Monica.  "You  will  live  with 
Reggie  and  me.  I  wouldn't  marry  Reggie 
unless  he  agreed  to  that." 

"I  was  only  waiting  until  Miss  Bertram  had 
done  speaking  to  say  that  myself,"  said 
Nicholson. 

"I  am  healthy  and  strong,  children,"  said 
the  woman  in  a  curiously  hard  voice. 
"Reggie's  father  has  lost  money  by  this. 
Monica  herself  may  also  be  said  to  have  lost 
some,  since  I  should  of  course  have  left  her 
half  of  mine,  and  it  is  all  my  brother's  doing. 
How  could  I  possibly  ask  you  two  to  keep  me? 
I  am  not  speaking  about  the  matter  without 
thinking.  I  have  thought  it  all  over,  and  I 
shall  ask  for  a  post  as  housekeeper  or  matron 
of  some  small  Home.  For  one  thing,  I  cannot 
possibly  go  on  living  at  Hartshill  in  the  middle 
of  all  the  people  whom  my  poor  brother  has 
ruined.  How  could  I  meet  the  Garths  and 
Wintons  and  Cartons?  And  then  there  is  Mr. 
Lowe.  Poor  Mr.  Lowe!  He  has  lost  every- 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  339 

thing  and  has  nothing  but  the  income  from  his 
living,  and  it  is  my  fault.  Why  have  we  all 
been  trying  to  be  rich  like  this?  To  get  money 
without  earning  it !  we  have  all  set  you  a  ter- 
rible example,  dear  children,  we  who  are  sup- 
posed to  be  your  guardians  and  teachers!  But 
at  any  rate  you  will  see  how  severely  and 
promptly  such  folly  is  punished.  I  think  I  am 
going  to  leave  you  here  together  for  a  little 
while.  I  want  to  be  by  myself  to  think. 
Remember  that  we  are  going  to  see  Gerald  at 
three  o'clock." 

As  if  resolved  to  escape  from  Monica's  pro- 
tests Miss  Bertram  left  the  room  quickly,  and 
the  two  lovers  sat  in  silence  for  a  time,  wonder- 
ing whether  they  would  be  able  to  change  her 
intention.  She  did  not  as  a  rule  announce  such 
decisions  lightly,  or  readily  abandon  them 
when  made,  and  indeed  Reggie  saw  some 
reason  in  what  she  had  said  about  themselves. 
Nicholson  Senior  had  lost  a  big  sum,  a  number 
of  his  workmen  had  lost  money  by  the  Society's 
failure,  and  he  would  be  expected  to  help 
them.  The  young  man  foresaw  that  his  own 
allowance  would  have  to  be  reduced  to  very 
small  proportions.  They  would  in  fact  have 
to  live  for  some  time  on  Monica's  money,  and 
out  of  this  she  would  very  probably,  so  far  as 
could  be  seen  at  present,  have  to  support  her 


340  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

brother  for  some  time  to  come.  Gerald  would 
be  unable  to  work  for  another  three  months, 
and  even  then  a  young  man  with  his  record 
would  not  find  it  easy  to  get  work.  Yet  the 
boy,  who  had  almost  as  sincere  an  affection  tor 
Miss  Bertram  as  Monica  had,  certainly  did  not 
mean  to  let  her  do  any  work  if  she  could  be 
persuaded  to  come  and  live  with  them.  He 
said  to  himself,  not  without  a  certain  amount 
of  satisfaction,  that  the  best  thing  to  be  done 
was  for  himself  and  Monica  to  be  married 
at  once,  and  ask  Miss  Bertram  to  live  with 
them  at  some  place  within  reasonable  distance 
of  Stoke,  though  as  far  as  possible  from 
Hartshill. 

It  was  Nicholson's  self-imposed  task  to  read 
the  morning  and  evening  newspapers,  and  to 
tell  Miss  Bertram  and  Monica  all  that  they 
were  absolutely  obliged  to  know  of  the  proceed- 
ings in  connection  with  the  Freehold.  Mon- 
day morning's  papers  seemed,  as  the  young 
man  said  to  himself,  to  contain  news  of  the 
arrest  of  everybody  they  knew  in  London  and 
Staffordshire.  Tuesday's  and  Wednesday's 
papers  announced  the  first  appearance  of  the 
prisoners  at  Bow  Street  and  their  remand. 
Day  after  day  the  story  went  on  of  the  havoc 
and  ruin  wrought  by  the  men  who  had  planned 
and  carried  out  the  Freehold  Building  Society 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  341 

and  its  kindred  companies.  No  trace  could  be 
found  of  any  money  in  the  possession  of  either 
Margets  or  Marshall,  and  they  professed  to 
have  paid  everything  in  order  to  settle  certain 
debts.  Proof  of  criminal  transactions  was 
found,  when  the  public  prosecutor  got  fairly 
into  his  work,  to  be  extremely  difficult  to 
obtain.  Against  Lord  Eastney  there  was  abso- 
lutely none.  He  posed  successfully  as  a  dupe, 
though  there  were  certain  documents  signed  at 
the  midnight  meeting  at  Margets'  house  which 
came  near  to  being  his  undoing.  There  was, 
however,  a  certain  amount  of  evidence  to  cor- 
roborate his  assertion  that  he  had  signed  a  por- 
tion without  being  shown  the  whole.  His 
acquittal  was  a  foregone  conclusion,  and  took 
place  accordingly.  The  man  went  home  to 
his  house  on  the  afternoon  of  the  day  when  the 
trial  came  to  an  end.  There  would  be  a  sale 
there  shortly  under  half  a  score  of  bankruptcy 
notices,  and  Lady  Eastney  was  superintending 
the  packing  of  her  own  private  possessions. 
She  was  alone  in  the  drawing-room  when  he 
entered,  and  looked  up  with  cold  enquiry  on 
her  face. 

"It  is  all  right,"  he  said,  "I  have  got  off. 
The  charge,  as  I  told  you,  was  a  ridiculous 
one.  As  if  I  could  possibly  know  what  the 
scoundrels  were  doing!" 


342  Resolved  to  be   Rich 

Lady  Eastney  turned  round  to  the  mantel- 
piece again,  her  fingers  moving  restlessly  to 
and  fro  among  the  small  ornaments  there. 

"I  am  afraid  there  is  a  bad  time  coming  for 
us  financially,"  he  went  on  hesitatingly,  "but 
I  hope  you  won't  mind  it  very  much.  Of 
course  I  shall  look  out  for  some  work,  and  I 
don't  suppose  there  will  be  any  difficulty  in 
getting  some.  We  could  live  in  London  or 
the  country,  whichever  you  like.  Of  course  we 
can't  go  on  living  in  this  house,  but  I  don't 
think  you  need  be  very  uncomfortable." 

For  answer  the  Marchioness  muttered  to 
herself  some  words  which  sounded  so  like,  "I 
suppose  it  doesn't  matter  much  so  long  as  we 
are  safely  together,"  that  the  man's  face 
flushed  up  to  the  forehead  and  he  moved 
towards  her. 

"Would  you — would  you  really  care  about 
our  being  together?"  he  asked  with  eyes  down- 
cast and  the  beginnings  of  a  look  of  happiness 
on  his  face. 

Lady  Eastney  turned  and  stared  at  him  in 
amazement;  then,  as  she  understood,  laughed 
slightly. 

"I  meant  Angela!"  she  said. 

Muirhead  would  perhaps  have  escaped  alto- 
gether, though  his  share  in  the  purchase  and 
management  of  the  Arkhill  Hall  property  was 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  343 

difficult  to  explain  away,  but  during  the  last 
three  weeks  he  had  simply,  as  it  appeared, 
helped  himself  to  large  sums  of  the  Society's 
money  for  betting  purposes ;  and  this  not  only 
meant  five  years  penal  servitude  in  itself,  but 
lent  a  much  blacker  aspect  to  the  other  shady 
transactions  in  which  he  had  been  engaged  on 
behalf  of  the  Society.  It  was  pleaded,  how- 
ever, with  a  certain  amount  of  success,  that  he 
had  been  the  dupe  of  Marshall  throughout,  and 
some  very  carefully  prepared  and  cautiously 
given  evidence  of  Reggie  Nicholson's  went  to 
prove  that,  even  if  he  had  realised  dimly  that 
some  of  the  proceedings  of  the  Society  were  a 
trifle  queer,  he  had  always  believed  the  Com- 
pany itself  to  be  sound  and  solvent.  The 
result,  however,  was  seven  years  penal  servi- 
tude, and  it  was  not  much  satisfaction  to  him 
to  hear  the  judge's  opinion  that  he  had  got  off 
very  lightly.  He  left  the  Courthouse  almost 
wishing  that  the  sentence  had  been  for  life. 
What  had  he  to  expect  or  hope  for  at  the  end 
of  these  years?  His  life  was  over,  with  failure 
written  at  the  end  of  every  pathway  along 
which  he  had  walked.  He  loathed  failure,  and 
it  had  pursued  and  overtaken  him  everywhere. 
He  was  a  born  gambler,  with  the  true 
gambler's  feeling  that,  in  everything  he  did, 
he  was  playing  a  game  with  fortune,  the  end 


344  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

of  which  would  be  decided  by  no  merit  or 
judgment,  no  virtue  or  effort.  Everywhere 
he  had  been  beaten,  and,  as  is  natural  in  this 
view  of  life,  he  saw  no  hope  for  the  future 
because  he  had  no  counters  with  which  to 
recommence  the  game.  He  saw  immediately 
before  him  a  long  term  of  years  in  which  time 
was  simply  to  pass  without  result,  good  or  bad, 
and  in  which  the  most  that  one  could  possibly 
hope  was  that  it  would  pass  quickly.  After 
that  he  foresaw  merely  a  struggle  to  live,  with- 
out hope  or  expectation  of  enjoyment ;  a  long, 
long  fight  in  which  there  would  be  neither 
victory  nor  defeat  but  only  fighting*  He 
went  away  with  a  last  dazed  look  round  the 
Courthouse,  and  a  dull  wonder,  characteristic 
of  the  man,  why  fortune  should  have  treated 
him  so  ill  when  it  had  behaved  so  kindly  to 
some  of  his  companions. 

In  Marshall's  case  defence  was,  as  he  coolly 
told  his  sister,  an  entire  waste  of  money.  "I 
never  meant  to  offer  any  defence,"  he  said,  "I 
simply  meant  to  escape,  and  I  can't  think  what 
induced  me  to  put  it  off  so  long.  It  is  a 
blunder  which  will  cost  me  pretty  dear  now. " 

The  blunder  cost  Mr.  Marshall  twelve  years 
penal  servitude,  which  sentence  he  heard  with 
a  resigned  sigh,  but  a  feeling  on  the  whole  of 
relief.  "That  means  eight  years,"  he  calcu- 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  345 

lafed,  "unless  I  try  to  escape,  or  knock  the 
warders  down,  or  complain  of  the  food.  Well, 
I  have  lived  hard  at  various  periods  of  my  life, 
and  I  do  not  suppose  that  life  at  Portland  will 
be  much  worse  than  the  years  in  Madrid  after 
that  last  little  contretemps.  And  when  I  come 
out,  I  shall,  after  all,  be  well  on  the  right  side 
of  fifty,  and  there  is  the  best  part  of  ^40,000 
put  away  in  that  bank  at  Buenos  Ayres  which 
Jackson  will  look  after  for  me  faithfully 
enough.  It  will  double  in  these  eight  years, 
won't  it?  Or  how  long  is  it  that  these  sums 
take  to  double?  I  must  ask  for  an  arithmetic 
book  at  Portland  and  find  out.  It  is  a  bore, 
but  a  man  is  not  moribund  at  fifty;  he  has  got 
ten  years  of  enjoyment  at  least  before  him,  and 
there  is  a  good  deal  of  spending  in  ^60,000. 
We  will  call  it  £60,000.  To  get  hold  of 
Master  Gerald's  ,£3,000  at  the  last  moment 
was  a  great  coup,  though  I  expect  that  the 
delay  which  it  caused  has  helped  to  land  me 
here.  Well,  these  accidents  will  happen,  and 
eight  years  is  not  eternity. ' ' 

It  must  be  admitted  that  Mr.  Marshall 
deserved  his  sentence,  and  might  be  held  by 
the  most  lenient  moralist  to  have  deserved  a 
good  deal  more, 

Gerald  Franklin's  case  was  the  one  on  which 
most  doubt  existed,  and  on  which  much  legal 


346  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

debate  took  place.  He  was  defended  with 
great  ability  on  the  lines  that  he  was  a  sub- 
ordinate of  a  subordinate,  "the  dupe  of  a 
dupe,"  as  one  counsel  remarked,  and  could  not 
for  a  moment  understand  why  the  explanation 
was  received  with  general  laughter.  Much 
was  made  of  a  theory  invented  for  his  benefit 
by  Dr.  Hare,  that  the  lad  had  found  Marshall 
on  the  point  of  escaping  and  had  received  his 
wounds  in  a  gallant  attempt  to  stop  him.  The 
boy's  innocent  and  youthful  appearance  was  of 
course  a  great  help  to  the  defence,  and  difficult 
as  it  was  to  combat  the  statement  of  the  prose- 
cution that  somebody  in  North  Staffordshire 
had  thoroughly  known  and  understood  the  pro- 
ceedings of  the  Society,  and  that  that  some- 
body was  certainly  not  Muirhead,  Gerald's 
counsel  was  finally  successful.  To  his  own 
infinite  astonishment  the  lad  heard  a  verdict  of 
acquittal  for  himself,  and  for  a  moment  hardly 
knew  which  to  do  first,  to  rejoice  in  his  escape 
or  despise  the  jury  for  believing  in  his  inno- 
cence. It  was  of  course  pleasing  to  be  free ; 
but  it  was  very  unpleasant  to  be  free  because 
twelve  of  your  fellow  countrymen,  having 
deliberated  on  the  matter  for  some  time,  had 
concluded  that  you  were  a  fool.  Liberty,  how- 
ever, was  worth  having  even  at  this  price,  and, 
as  Gerald  very  properly  argued,  it  was  the 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  347 

highest  triumph  of  genius  to  have  all  the  man- 
agement and  all  the  profit  of  an  undertaking  in 
your  own  hands,  and  let  somebody  else  bear  all 
the  losses  and  the  blame  for  all  the  mistakes. 

And  so  with  a  sentence  of  eighteen  months 
imprisonment  for  Robinson  and  five  years 
penal  servitude  for  Mr.  Margets,  the  trial  of  the 
directors  and  managers  of  the  Freehold  Build- 
ing Society  came  to  an  end. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 

The  injury  to  Gerald's  throat  was  sufficient 
to  prevent  him  from  working  for  many  weeks, 
even  after  his  departure  from  the  hospital  and 
discharge  from  his  trial.  He  had  no  money 
and  his  prospects  were  small,  for  no  firm  would 
willingly  give  employment  to  any  one  who  had 
been  connected  with  the  recently  exposed 
Building  Society,  whose  clerks  were  obviously 
either  fools  or  scoundrels.  Re-established  in 
his  rooms  in  the  Ethridges'  house  two  days 
after  the  conclusion  of  the  trial,  it  occurred  to 
Gerald,  who  had  hitherto  been  absorbed  by  his 
own  danger,  to  wonder  how  the  weekly  bills 
were  being  paid.  Miss  Bertram,  he  suddenly 
remembered,  must  have  lost  nearly  all  her 
money  in  the  crash  of  the  Freehold.  It  was 
not  likely  that  Ethridge  was  keeping  him  for 
nothing.  He  himself  was  more  than  penni- 
less, for  any  money  which  he  had  saved  had 
been  absorbed  ten  times  over  by  the  expenses 
of  his  defence.  His  real  position  suddenly 
occurred  to  him,  that  he  was  penniless,  without 
means  or  prospects,  living  on  his  sister's 
348 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  349 

charity.  The  unpleasantness  of  the  situation 
had  been  dulled  by  illness  and  danger.  Now 
it  fully  confronted  him  and  he  writhed  under  it. 
Monica  was  sitting  in  the  room  as  he  lay  on  the 
sofa  calculating  facts  and  chances.  He  had 
been  told  to  talk  very  little  and  move  very 
little,  and  there  was  therefore  nothing  for  him 
to  do  but  to  sit  there  and  read.  Many  even  of 
those  people  who  love  reading  find  it  a  detest- 
able occupation  when  it  suddenly  becomes  their 
only  one,  and  Gerald  did  not  love  it  at  the  best 
of  times.  For  the  past  forty-eight  hours  he 
had  been  reading  the  newspaper  accounts  of 
himself  and  his  friends,  with  criticisms  of  the 
Freehold's  finance,  and  had  been  considering, 
as  was  his  wont,  how  much  better  he  could 
have  written  them  himself  if  it  had  been  his 
business  to  do  so.  The  articles  amused  him, 
chiefly  on  account  of  the  elaborate  theories  by 
which  the  writers  accounted  for  Marshall's  suc- 
cess. The  managing  director  of  the  Society 
had,  it  appeared,  made  the  most  wonderful 
statements  and  put  forth  the  most  wonderful 
proofs  as  to  the  value  of  the  Society.  Evi- 
dently, muttered  Gerald,  it  takes  people  a  long 
time  to  find  out  that  nine  people  out  of  ten 
believe  any  statement  which  you  make  to  them 
about  money  matters  without  any  proof  at  all, 
if  you  make  it  three  times  in  a  loud  voice. 


3 $o  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

But  the  newspaper  criticisms  palled  after  a 
time;  thought  and  anxiety  followed,  and 
Gerald  began  asking  questions. 

"So  nothing  could  be  got  out  of  Marshall 
about  my  money?"  said  the  lad  to  his  sister  this 
afternoon. 

"He  said,  you  know,  that  he  had  spent  every- 
thing he  had  on  bribing  people  to  keep  quiet 
till  the  last  possible  moment,"  said  Monica. 

"Yes,  I  know,"  said  Gerald  with  a  laugh, 
"one  believes  as  much  of  that  as  one  pleases." 
Marshall's  character  was  in  fact,  as  the  boy 
knew,  very  much  like  his  own,  and  he  himself 
knew  a  good  deal  better  than  to  try  and  bribe 
people  into  silence. 

"I  am  afraid  however  that  it  is  gone,"  said 
Monica,  on  the  whole  content  that  her  brother 
was  beginning  to  think  again. 

"And  Aunt  Christina's  too?" 

"Yes,"  said  the  girl.  "She  is  talking  of 
accepting  a  place  as  matron  of  a  small  orphans' 
home  at  Chester  which  has  been  offered  to  her. 
The  pay  is  £40  a  year,  and  I  have  had  great 
difficulty  in  making  her  promise  to  take 
another  ^60  a  year  out  of  my  money. " 

Gerald  raised  himself  up  on  his  arm,  looking 
thoroughly  horrified  and  startled:  "I  did  not 
quite  realize  that  it  meant  that,"  he  said  in  a 
low  voice,  and,  practical  young  man  as  he  was, 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  351 

Monica  thought  it  very  probable  that  he  was 
speaking  the  truth. 

"It  is  very  sad,"  said  the  girl,  "but  she  has 
got  plenty  of  courage." 

"And  I  say,  old  girl,  about  myself  .  .  . 
It  is  a  horrible  thing  to  have  to  ask  you,  but 
you  know  I  have  got  nothing  left  either.  As 
you  see  from  the  trial  it  is  not  altogether  my 
fault.  Those  fellows  knew  what  they  were 
after,  and  I  didn't.  You  see  how  they  gulled 
me.  .  .  ." 

"Oh,  Gerald  dear!" 

Looking  up  quickly  the  boy  met  his  sister's 
eyes  fixed  on  him  with  a  curious  pleading  look 
in  them.  He  flushed  scarlet  and  looked  down 
at  the  sofa-cushions,  picking  one  of  them  with 
nervous  fingers.  In  the  silence  which  followed 
there  flashed  back  into  his  memory  a  score  of 
occasions  on  which  he  had  told  Monica  the 
truth  about  some  transaction  in  which  he  was 
involved,  and  let  her  into  half  a  hundred 
secrets,  in  looking  back  upon  which  she  could 
not  fail  to  see  how  deeply  he  himself  had  been 
involved  in  Marshall's  roguery. 

"I  suppose  I  have  been  rather  mean  to  you," 
he  said  at  last,  and  even  such  a  grudging  con- 
fession as  this  made  Monica  more  contented; 
"but  anyhow  the  others  have  known  so  much 
more  than  me  that  they  have  got  the  best  of 


352  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

me  in  the  end,"  went  on  the  boy  ruefully, 
"and  I  have  got  nothing  left  at  all.  Of  course 
I  shall  soon  get  some  more  work  to  do,  but,  as 
you  heard  old  Carter  say,  I  am  good  for  noth- 
ing yet.  Could  you" — the  words  stuck  in  his 
throat  again  and  again — "Could  you  help  me  a 
bit?  Could  you  lend  me  enough  to  go  on  with 
till  I  get  some  work?" 

"Of  course  I  will,  Gerald,  and  you  needn't 
surely  mind  so  much  about  asking  me.  At 
any  rate,"  she  went  on,  suddenly  mindful  of  a 
hundred  injunctions  which  her  aunt  had  given 
her  as  to  what  she  was  to  say  when  this  inevi- 
table moment  came,  "I  will  give  you  whatever 
is  necessary.  It  wouldn't  be  fair  to  Reggie  to 
give  you  more,  though  indeed,  my  dear  old 
boy," — Monica  could  not  remember  her  injunc- 
tions for  more  than  ten  seconds  at  a  time — "of 
course  you  come  before  him.  I  am  going  to 
give  yoUp£ioo" — she  had  been  told  to  give  him 
^50,  but  somehow  that  didn't  sound  enough — 
"and  that  will  enable  you  to  pay  Dr.  Carter 
and  the  Ethridges,  and  will  keep  you  till  you 
are  well  and  can  get  some  more  work." 

The  lad  tried  to  mutter  a  few  words  of 
thanks,  but  something  choked  them  back.  His 
throat  hurt  him  violently  after  these  few  min- 
utes conversation,  and  the  humiliation  of  the 
moment  was  almost  more  than  he  could  bear. 


Resolved  to  be  Rich  353 

It  was  curious  that  when  only  a  few  months 
before  he  had  been  asking  his  sister  for  the 
whole  of  her  money  to  invest  in  a  security 
which  he  knew  to  be  quite  worthless, — which 
meant  a  5  per  cent,  commission  for  himself  and 
absolute  ruin  for  the  young  investor — he  had 
had  no  hesitation  and  very  little  shame. 
To-day  when  he  was  asking  for  ^100  he  was 
almost  crying  with  the  degradation  of  it. 

Monica  saw  his  misery,  and,  the  matter  hav- 
ing been  settled,  tried  to  turn  the  conversation 
to  something  more  pleasant. 

"Of  course  you  will  get  work  easily  enough," 
she  said,  "and  then  you  will  begin  to  settle 
down  better  and  save  a  little  for  certain  pur- 
poses, won't  you?" 

"To  pay  you  back  again?"  asked  the  boy 
with  another  great  flush  of  colour.  "Yes,  of 
course  I  shall. ' ' 

"Indeed,  I  wasn't  thinking  of  that,"  said  the 
girl  with  a  frown  at  this  misinterpretation  of 
her  words.  "I  was  thinking  of — of  Sophie." 

"Oh!"  The  flush  continued  on  Gerald's 
face,  but  a  slight  smile  was  added  to  it. 

"Shan't  you  try  to  save  something  for  her?" 
asked  the  girl. 

"How  do  I  know  that  she  would  take  it 
when  it  was  saved?"  said  Gerald  with  a  shy 
laugh. 


354  Resolved  to  be  Rich 

"I  think  she  would,  but  you  might  ask  her." 

"Very  well,  I  will." 

"And  then  you  will  have  something-  else  to 
think  about  besides  making  money.  That  has 
never  seemed  to  me  to  be  the  one  thing  worth 
thinking  about;  and  all  of  you  who  have 
thought  so  much  about  it,  and  about  nothing 
else,  have  been  very  unlucky." 

"Well,"  said  Gerald,  "whether  Sophie  likes 
me  or  not,  I  am  still  resolved  to  be  rich." 

"A  very  nice  resolution  in  its  right  place," 
said  Monica  with  the  air  of  some  one  who 
knew  several  resolutions  which  were  better, 
and  a  glance  up  at  Reggie  Nicholson,  who 
came  in  and  asked  her  what  she  was  preaching 
about. 


PRINTED  BY  R.  R.  DONNELLEY 
AND  SONS  COMPANY  AT  THE 
LAKESIDE  PRESS,  CHICAGO,  ILL. 


A     000137808     2 


